LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF 
CALIFORNIA 

SAN  DIEGO 


Private 


OF 


.  FRED  W.  DAVIS. 

No 


BY  THE  SAME  AUTHOR 
Will  §>i)afce£fpeare'0  little  Lau 

With  illustrations  and  cover  design 

by  Reginald  B.  Birch 

izmo,  $1.50 

The  author  has  caught  the  true 
spirit  of  Shakespeare' s  time,  and 
paints  his  home  surroundings  with 
a  loving,  tender  grace.  The  little 
lad,  who  loses  his  life  in  endeav- 
ouring to  save  that  of  his  dog, 
is  but  a  youthful  Shakespeare  in 
spirit,  a  lovable  lad,  truly,  whose 
nature  accords  with  all  that  is 
beautiful,  harmonious,  and  true. 
— BOSTON  HERALD. 


God's  Puppets 


God's  Puppets 

A  Story  of  Old 

New  York 

By 

Imogen  Clark 


"  God's  puppets,  best  and  worst,  are  we." 

— PIPPA  PASSES. 


$eto  Horfc 

Charles  Scribner's  Sons 
1901 


COPYRIGHT,   1901 
By  CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 

*• 

All  Rights  Reserved 


(Cfce  (Scott  printing  Companp 


My  Dear  Father 


Contents 


Page 

I.  A  Letter i 

II.  The  Garden  Street  Church 15 

III.  In  Annetje's  Garden 26 

IV.  The  Domine's  Story 40 

V.    A  Friend  of  the  Family 55 

VI.    Mother  and  Daughter 65 

VII.    A  Conspiracy 76 

VIII.    At  Greenwich 89 

IX.    A  Little  Lad  from  Home 102 

X.    A  Friendly  Asylum no 

XI.  The  Immediate  Jewel  of  Her  Soul      .     .121 

XII.    An  Only  Child 133 

XIII.  The  Weaving  of  Fate 143 

XIV.  An  Unexpected  Visit 157 

XV.    The  Consistory 1 66 

XVI.    A  Little  Provincial 179 

XVII.    Peggy  and  Annetje 190 

XVIII.   Jan  Praa  Speaks  His  Mind 201 

ix 


Contents 

P*ge 

XIX.  The  Fulfilling  of  a  Trust 215 

XX.  Master  and  Servant 228 

XXI.  The  Weekly  "Post-Boy"       .     .     .     .  243 

XXII.  At  Trinity  of  a  Sunday 256 

XXIII.  The  Strands  Tighten 268 

XXIV.  An  Unwritten  Message 282 

XXV.  At  the  Church  Door 292 

XXVI.  Within  the  Church 302 

XXVII.  Jan  as  Knight 314 

XXVIII.  Peggy  Intercedes 327 

XXIX.  The  Angel  of  the  Darker  Drink  .     .     .344 

XXX.  The  New  Day 355 

XXXI.  Fulfilment 367 


God's  Puppets 


God's  Puppets 


A  LETTER 

FROM  CAPTAIN  JOHN  BELLENDEN  TO  SIR  HARRY 
FEN  WICK,   BART. 

AT  THE  PROVINCE  ARMS, 
NEW  YORK,  April  22,  1757. 

MY  DEAR  HAL: 

Faith,  'tis  no  Paradise  here,  but  'tis  not  that  other 
Place  either  and  so  a  Man  must  needs  be  content. 
'Tis  a  vast  improvement  upon  Barbadoes  anyway,  and 
though  I  made  no  Choice  in  coming  hither,  since  'twas 
His  Lordship's  command,  neither  did  I  make  a  Choice 
of  coming  into  the  World  which,  after  all,  is  infinitely 
better  than  some  misanthropical  Fellows  say  they  find 
it.  Gad,  'tis  but  say  so  on  their  parts,  for  when  the 
Time  comes  for  their  quitting  it  they  call  you  in  my 
Doctor  this,  or  t'other,  to  physick  'em  into  some  show 
of  Health.  Plague  take  it!  what  won't  those  same 
grumbling  Fellows  do  to  stay  upon  this  Earth,  and  not 
under  it?  They'll  even  fall  to  drinking  Asses'  milk, 
like  My  Lord  Hervey  at  Home,  (vide  Mr  Pope's 
Epistle  to  Arbuthnot)  and  call  it  Living  too !  But  that's 


God's  Puppets 

not  for  Jack  Bellenden.  A  merry  Life,  not  a  long 
one,  say  I,  and  a  quick  Death  at  the  end,  like  the  go- 
ing-out of  a  Candle  on  a  gusty  Night  when  Betty,  the 
maid,  leaves  the  Door  ajar— one  Flare  after  the  steady 
shining  and  then — the  Dark.  '  Tis  a  Consummation 
devoutly  to  be  wished/  as  that  melancholic,  mad 
Prince  says  in  the  Play.  Lord — Lord!  I  can  hear 
the  sound  of  little  Davy's  Voice  in  the  words  now,  and 
I  can  see  the  tragical  Face  of  him  too,  and  I  haven't 
laid  Eyes  on  him  for  more  than  twice  a  Twelvemonth. 

I  do  protest,  Hal,  thou  art  a  lucky  Dog — Money  in 
thy  Purse  and  London  all  before  thee,  London  and 
the  Play-houses,  London — nay,  'tis  a  Picture  to  draw 
tears  from  a  Jew,  and  but  for  an  accident  of  Birth 
thy  Fate  might  be  mine  own,  and  mine  thine.  How 
wouldst  like  standing  in  my  Shoes — a  poor  Devil  of  a 
Captain  with  a  beggarly  pay  and  Debts  mountain- 
high?  Wouldst  find  Fruits  then  for  thy  Philosophy 
and  Sweets  in  this  new  World  to  rival  those  proven 
Ones  in  the  old  ?  Wouldst  wear  thy  Scarlet  Coat  with 
a  swagger  to  beat  mine  own  ?  For  let  me  tell  thee  I 
carry  a  brave  Front  and  outface  the  Boldest — as  why 
not?  say  I.  Thou  hast  fathomed  ere  this,  I  warrant, 
that  'tis  not  so  bad  with  me  after  all ;  'tis  ever  the  trick 
of  my  Pen  to  write  first  in  a  mournful  Strain,  as  your 
Fiddler  will  play  you  a  plaintive  Measure  to  set  your 
Senses  a-quivering  and  bespeak  your  softest  Mood. 

Sure,  New  York  is  not  London,  but  'tis  New  York 
and  that  means  something.  Tis  not  so  big  a  Town 
as  Boston,  or  Philadelphia,  but  with  regard  to  its 
Opulence,  its  Commerce,  its  fine  Buildings,  it  disputes 
the  Preference  with  either  of  'em.  The  Streets  are 

2 


A  Letter 

not  so  straight  as  those  of  Philadelphia  and  have  some- 
times considerable  Bendings,  however,  they  are  very 
Spacious  and  well  built,  and  most  of  'em  are  paved, 
except  in  high  Places,  where  it  has  been  found  of  no 
avail.  There  are  Trees  in  the  chief  Streets,  too,  which 
must  give  'em  a  fine  appearance  in  Summer  and  afford 
a  cooling  Shade,  for  'tis  devilish  hot  here  at  that  time, 
they  tell  me. 

Most  of  the  Houses  are  built  of  Brick  and  are  strong 
and  neat  and  several  Storeys  high ;  some  have,  accord- 
ing to  the  old  Architecture,  turned  their  gable  ends 
towards  the  Street,  but  the  new  Houses  are  altered  in 
this  respect.  Tis  a  pretty  sight  to  come  across  the 
older  kind  sending  up  sharp  peaks  Skywards,  their 
gable-ends  notched  like  Steps  and  their  sides  curiously 
flowered  with  black  Brick  in  quaint  Patterns  and  dated 
with  the  same.  These  Dwellings  belong  principally 
to  the  Dutch,  or  those  of  mixed  Dutch  ancestry,  and 
are  surrounded  by  trim  Gardens  or  big,  or  little,  as 
best  may  suit  the  Purse  of  Mynheer  the  owner. 

The  English,  who  represent  the  People  of  Fashion, 
dwell  at  the  Polite  end  of  the  Town  near  the  Fort 
where  His  Excellency  resides.  Their  Houses  are 
built  after  our  own  Models  with  Gardens  often  slop- 
ing to  the  Waterside.  Queen  Street,  too,  has  some 
fine  Mansions  and  Broad  as  well.  These  People  have 
their  Country-Seats  in  the  Villages  beyond  the  Town 
and  along  the  High-road  to  Boston,  great  Estates 
lying  in  the  midst  of  innumerable  Acres.  Tis  a  rich 
Country  and  a  pretty. 

I  and  two  of  my  fellow  Officers — Whyte  and  Nevil 
— (you  remember  that  sad  dog  Dick  Whyte,  I'll  wager 

3 


God's  Puppets 


a  crown !)  rode  out  beyond  the  Town  on  our  first  com- 
ing hither  and  stopped  at  a  Tavern  on  a  Hill.  'Twas 
a  fine  View  we  commanded,  and  if  I  possessed  a  tithe 
of  Mr.  Gray's  Genius  I  might  write  you  an  Ode  on 
the  distant  Prospect,  but  there's  small  rhyming  in  my 
pate.  Still,  I'll  put  down  the  things  as  I  saw  'em  and 
you  can  hunt  up  some  Grub  Street  hack  and  let  him 
bring  forth  a  Breed  of  Couplets.  Then  he  can  dedi- 
cate the  same  to  his  noble  Patron,  get  up  a  Subscrip- 
tion-list and  publish  'em,  but  know,  in  case  a  large 
Fortune  accrues,  that  'twas  I — Jack  Bellenden — who 
fathered  'em. 

'Twas  near  the  close  of  Day  when  we  halted  and 
egad,  the  Scene  was  a  pleasing  one.  On  our  right  a 
great  fresh  water  pond — the  Collect  it  is  called, — the 
delight  of  all  true  Anglers — flashed  like  Metal  in  the 
light,  beyond  stretched  marsh-lands  where  Snipe 
abound,  and  gently  swelling  Hills ;  there  was,  too,  the 
glint  of  a  lesser  lake — the  little  Collect  (I  know  not 
what  will  rhyme  with  that!)  while  to  the  South  lay 
the  Town  itself  with  its  Roofs  and  Spires  distinct 
against  the  glowing  Sky,  with  here  and  there  a  Wind- 
mill to  tell  where  some  old  Burgher  lived  and,  girding 
all  about  like  a  Silver  setting,  the  gleam  of  the  Water 
on  the  edge  of  the  Island.  At  the  foot  of  the  Hill  at 
the  entrance  of  the  City  is  a  Bridge — hight  the  Kiss- 
ing-Bridge — which  spans  a  streamlet  (egad,  I'm  turn- 
ing to  the  Muse  myself,)  dancing  its  way  through  the 
Meadows  to — where  I  care  not.  But  oh,  the  Bridge 
— the  Bridge!  Tis  not  'by  your  leave,  my  Lady,' 
but  no  words  and  all  action.  Be  she  in  a  coming- 
on  disposition,  or  the  reverse,  'tis  your  right  and, 

4 


A  Letter 

though  the  flout  you,  she  may  not  deny  you.  Tis 
kiss  and  come  again,  and  yet  again  if  she  be  Sweet- 
and-Twenty.  Truly,  a  most  excellent  Custom  and  one 
with  which  I'd  never  quarrel — not  I ! 

It  would  seem  as  if  that  same  Tower  of  Babel  were 
situate  on  this  Island  for  the  Inhabitants  speak  many 
and  diverse  Tongues.  Here,  you  find  your  swag- 
bellied  Hollander,  your  German,  and  your  right,  hon- 
est Englishman — the  Peer  of  'em  all.  Here  also  are 
many  French,  descendants  from  the  Huguenots  who 
came  hither  when  Times  were  hot  for  'em  overseas 
and  have  prospered  mightily  ever  since,  Spanishers  a 
few,  dusky  Africans — the  child  of  Israel  to  barter,  and 
sell,  and  lend  out  Moneys  (at  a  low  Usury,  now 
Heaven  be  praised !)  skulking  Copperskins — our  Allies 
for  the  nonce — and  I  know  not  how  many  other  Folk 
besides.  All  the  nations  of  the  Earth  met  together,  as 
it  were,  and  all  compounded  of  the  same  Stuff.  It 
makes  no  difference  whether  the  Skin  be  dark,  or  fair, 
within  'tis  the  old  Adam,  ay,  and  the  old  Eve  too,  and 
— who  shall  not  say — the  old  Nick  to  leaven  the  whole. 

'Tis  a  bustling,  busy  Town — a  Mart  of  the  World. 
All  day  at  the  Wharves  great  Ships  are  loading  with 
Riches  from  the  Provinces  and  other  great  Ships  are 
unloading  their  Cargoes  from  foreign  Lands  and  from 
mine  own  dear  England  for  the  advancement  of  this 
new  Country.  Does  my  Lady  go  rustling  in  Brocades 
in  London?  Madam  Fine-Airs  apes  her  here.  You 
have  no  Fashion  that  is  not  speedily  welcomed  hither. 
Why,  the  very  Streets  are  full  of  the  same  Sounds  you 
are  hearing  at  this  moment,  and  they'll  cry  you  as 
lustily  '  Buy  my  Wash-balls,  Gemmen  and  Ladies ' 

5 


God's  Puppets 


'  Sevil  Oranges  and  Lemens  '  as  though  'twere  Cheap- 
side  or  the  Fleet.  Miss  Hoity-toity  throws  me  a  dis- 
dainful Glance  from  her  Chair  as  she  swings  by  to 
the  Mantua-maker's,  or  to  the  Wharf  there  to  pull 
over  the  lading  of  India  muslins,  Italian  silks,  or  Dutch 
linen  and  did  I  not  know  better  I  might  think  myself 
at  Home  ogling  Lady  Betty,  or  Lady  Prue.  There's 
more  fire  though  in  Hoity-toity's  Glance  arid  less  of 
languishment  and  ease.  Faith,  she's  young  at  it,  just 
as  this  new  World  is  young,  but  marvellous  tender 
and,  I  doubt  not,  teachable ! 

Tis  a  Town  for  junketing.  Coffee-houses  and 
Ordinaries  a-plenty  and  young  Bloods  ready  for  a 
Game  at  any  hour  with  Stakes  well  worth  the  playing 
for ;  Dinners  with  the  Merchant-Princes  fit  for  Lucul- 
lus — aint  that  the  Fellow's  name? — and  Cards  and 
Routs  with  the  Fair  Sex  almost  nightly.  There's  an 
indifferent  Play-house  too,  and  a  company  of  Players, 
not  as  God  made  'em,  more's  the  pity!  There  are 
also  Concerts  of  pleasing  variety  and  on  the  outskirts 
of  the  Town  is  the  Tea-water  Pump  set  in  the  midst 
of  a  fair  Garden  whither  People  of  the  first  Fashion 
repair  of  an  Afternoon  to  drink  a  dish  of  Tea  and  talk 
a  pound  of  Scandal— The  same  World,  my  Hal,  or 
here,  or  there !  The  Coffee-house  I  frequent  chiefest, 
and  indeed  the  one  patronized  almost  exclusively  by 
our  Officers  is  The  Province  Arms  (see  per  heading) 
kept  by  a  Mr.  Willet— the  prince  of  Bonifaces.  He 
takes  in  all  the  Papers  both  from  this  Town  and  Phila- 
delphia with  an  occasional  Sheet  from  Boston  and  our 
own  Papers,  but  two  Months  old,  so  I  am  well  advised 
of  the  Happenings  of  the  World.  Hither  daily  come 

6 


A  Letter 

many  Men  of  Parts,  in  whose  Society  I  delight,  and 
besides  from  this  Room  I've  a  goodly  View  of  the  Mall 
where  the  fashionable  Folk  walk,  and  close  at  hand  is 
Trinity  church-yard  where  the  fashionable  Folk  lie, 
so  there's  Food  in  abundance  for  my  merry  or  sober 
Moods. 

I  waited  on  my  Cousins  the  Crewes  yesterday. 
They  are  of  the  Crewes  of  Kent,  and  relatives  of  mine 
on  the  Distaff  side  as  I  may  have  told  you.  The  Pro- 
genitor of  the  family  came  out  to  the  Colonies  with 
my  Lord  Cornbury  as  His  Excellency's  something,  or 
t'other,  to  push  his  Fortune  and  here  he  stayed,  after 
my  Lord's  return,  pushing  his  Fortune  so  well  by 
Preferment,  natural  Wit,  and  Marriage  with  the  only 
Daughter  of  a  rich  Ship-owner  that  before  he  de- 
parted this  Life  he — the  Son  of  a  poor,  out-at-elbows 
county  Squire — was  one  of  the  greatest  Grandees  of  the 
Province.  By  his  Wife  he  had  one  Son,  the  Husband 
and  Father  of  the  present  Crewes.  That  Son  stayed 
with  us  when  I  was  a  little  Lad  for  weeks  on  end,  my 
Father  could  not  bear  to  have  him  from  his  sight, 
though  I've  scant  remembrance  of  him  myself.  He 
was  educated  in  England  and,  at  the  time  I  write, 
though  'twas  long  since  he'd  quitted  Cambridge  he'd 
no  Mind  to  go  back  to  his  own  Home.  He  was  see- 
ing the  World,  he  said.  Faith,  he  saw  it  well  before 
he  got  through  and  no  mistake !  His  name  is  still  re- 
membered in  London  where  his  Gallantries  set  the 
whole  Town  talking — you've  heard  my  Father  tell  a 
hundred  times  that  Story  of  him  and  Mrs.  Sally  L — 
and  the  Poem  that  was  writ  about  'em  at  Bath,  and 
then  those  other  Stories — hmm — hmm —  They  came 

7 


God's  Puppets 


rushing  into  my  Mind  as  I  made  my  bow  to  his 
Widow,  and  I  wondered  if  she'd  see  their  Wit  if  I 
told  'em  to  her.  Women  have  so  small  a  sense  of 
Humour  and  my  little  Lady,  for  all  her  Simpers,  has 
none  at  all,  I'll  warrant.  How  Tony  must  have  missed 
the  lack  of  it  in  her ! 

He  made  ducks  and  drakes  of  his  Property  back  in 
the  Thirties,  and  speedily  thereafter  returned  to  his 
own  People  like  that  prodigal  Fellow  in  the  story  Par- 
son Law  is  always  telling  us,  and  the  next  we  heard 
he'd  married  and  settled  down.  Gad,  how  my  Father 
roared !  Then  no  more  Word  of  him  until  some  years 
ago  a  Letter  advised  us  of  his  Demise.  His  Fortune, 
as  I've  said,  had  been  impaired,  but  he  married  Money 
— he  was  ever  a  lucky  Dog — and  Beauty  as  well. 
Trust  him  for  that !  Cousin  Tony  would  run  from  a 
Squint,  or  a  Hump,  as  if  the  Devil  was  after  him.  The 
Widow  is  a  marvellous  fine  Woman  still,  though  now- 
adays, what  with  the  paint,  powder,  and  stuffing  the 
dear  Creatures  use,  one  can't  tell  the  real  from  the 
false.  But  there's  enough  of  the  original  Foundation 
left,  else  I'm  much  deceived,  to  believe  she  was  once  the 
Toast  they  say.  And  a  Toast  she  is  yet,  sub  rosa,  but 
mainly  because  of  her  Money-bags,  I'm  thinking. 
She  aint  old  though,  still  far  from  fifty  I'll  wager  a 
crown,  and  her  teeth  are  her  own,  or  my  name's  not 
Jack  Bellenden.  Gad,  her  Fortune  would  be  a  pretty 
Plum  to  my  taste ! 

The  Crewes'  town-house  is  situate  near  the  Glacis 
of  the  Fort  and  is  built  of  Stone.  It  has  wide  Gardens 
in  the  rear  which  extend  to  the  Water-side  and  thither 
was  I  conducted  immediately  so  I'd  but  a  fleeting 

8 


A  Letter 

Glimpse  of  the  richly  appointed  Interior.  As  I  de- 
scended the  stone  steps  of  the  Terrace  to  where  my 
Cousins  were  taking  the  air,  for  the  Day  was  soft  like 
Summer — Spring  being  come  early  this  Year — it  was 
as  pretty  a  Picture  as  a  Painter  could  wish.  I  could 
almost  have  sworn  I  was  at  Home  so  familiar  were  the 
trim  Parterres,  where  already  some  early  Flowers 
were  blooming,  the  crisp  walls  of  close-clipped  Box, 
and  the  Yews  cut  out  in  fantastic  shapes  of  Peacocks 
— the  Crewe  crest.  'Twas  like  Castle  Crewe  in  little, 
and  I  thought  I'd  die  a-laughing  at  the  Pride  of  the 
younger  Branch,  and  my  Lord  not  knowing  'em  any 
more  than  Savages,  as  how  should  he,  seeing  they're 
some  half  dozen  times  removed? 

Through  the  trunks  of  the  Trees  I  could  catch  a 
view  of  the  Water  beyond  and,  at  the  foot  of  the  last 
Terrace,  was  a  little  Quay  where  some  Boats  lay 
moored,  but  I  turned  aside  and  followed  the  servant 
to  some  stone  Seats  around  an  old  Sun-dial  where  the 
Family  was  sitting.  At  my  approach  the  Widow  rose 
and  made  me  an  elegant  Curtsey,  which  I  matched 
with  a  Bow  fit  for  Versailles,  then  she  gave  me  her 
Hand  to  kiss  and  scolded  me  roundly  because  I'd  been 
a  week  in  Town  and  had  not  let  'em  know,  or  her  Son 
would  have  waited  on  me.  Whereupon  she  called  a 
slim  young  Beau  of  nineteen,  or  twenty,  to  bear  out 
her  words.  He  looked  more  like  her  Brother,  and  so 
I  told  her,  which  pleased  her  monstrously.  It's  not 
much,  after  all,  which  will  pleasure  the  Women — a  few 
words  and  a  Glance  and  the  dear  Creatures  are  ready 
to  swear  they  love  you,  though  they'll  hate  you  for  a 
less  Cause  the  next  moment. 

9 


God's  Puppets 


'  And  I've  a  strapping  big  Girl  too,  Cousin  Bellen- 
den,'  she  cries,  *  Time  was  when  my  Children  had  to 
look  up  to  me,  but  now  I  have  to  look  up  to  both  of 
'em.  This  is  your  Cousin  the  Captain,  child.' 

Then  Miss,  who'd  been  lounging  on  the  Bench 
against  a  red  Cushion,  as  I'd  seen  from  the  tail  of  my 
Eye,  came  forward  and  dropped  me  an  indifferent 
Curtsey,  but  when  I  would  have  kissed  her  Hand  she 
drew  it  away  with  a  Laugh  that  was  like  a  dash  of  cold 
water  in  my  Face.  '  Keep  your  pretty  Speeches  for 
those  who  believe  in  'em/  she  says  quite  low  and, 
turning,  she  went  back  to  her  place  and  leant  over  the 
Dial. 

'Twas  a  cold  enough  Welcome,  I  warrant  you,  but 
the  Widow  and  her  Son  made  up  with  the  warmth  of 
theirs.  And  so  we  chatted  for  the  better  part  of  an 
Hour  of  Home,  and  how  I  liked  York  Colony,  and 
what  People  of  Fashion  I'd  seen,  and  of  His  Excel- 
lency, the  Governor,  and  of  our  Forces  in  the  North, 
and  more  of  which  I  cannot  tell  you,  seeing  that  my 
Letter  is  already  so  long,  but  which  was  vastly  divert- 
ing. And  all  the  while  Miss  sat  mum,  and  but  for  that 
one  remark  I'd  have  thought  her  too  shy  to  speak. 

'  Peggy  has  the  Vapours  to-day/  cries  Larry  at  last, 
*  'taint  often  a  Stranger  can  quiet  her  Tongue  which 
goes  faster,  as  a  rule,  than  my  horse  Touchstone  can 
run.  What's  amiss,  child?  Has  our  Cousin  fright- 
ened you?' 

'  'Tis  little  I  know  of  Fear/  snaps  Miss,  with  a  good 
deal  of  Vixen  wrote  large  on  her  lovely  Face,  '  I'm  no 
Frenchman  to  tremble  at  the  sight  of  a  Red-coat ;  be- 
sides, a  toy  Soldier  signifies  no  more  to  me  than  a  sign- 

10 


A  Letter 

post  does  to  a  person  born  blind '  (she  meant  that 
because  I'm  quartered  here  in  Town),  'To  tell  the 
truth  I'm  occupied  with  weightier  Matters.' 

'  Such  as  your  Lessons  doubtless,  little  Cousin,'  says 
I,  rising  to  take  my  Leave,  '  I  see  you've  been  conning 
your  Letters  since  I  sat  here.' 

She  drummed  an  impatient  Hand  upon  the  old  Stone 
and  made  as  if  she  didn't  hear  me,  but  the  colour  rose 
in  her  Cheeks  and  her  Eyes  glittered. 

'  What,  have  you  got  as  far  as  Latin  ?  '  says  I,  lean- 
ing over  her  shoulder;  her  Mother  and  Brother  had 
gone  to  meet  some  Visitors  and,  for  the  moment,  we 
were  alone. 

'  Do  you  know  Latin  ? '  says  she,  with  an  impudent 
toss  of  her  Head  and  not  heeding  my  question  other- 
wise. '  La,  if  that's  the  case  I  ought  to  have  more  re- 
spect for  a  Red-coat  than  I  must  own  I  have.  I 
thought  they  only  taught  you  to  bow,  and  scrape,  and 
say  silly  things  to  Women.'' 

'  We  know  a  few  other  things,'  says  I,  nettled  by 
her  tone,  '  we  know,  for  instance,  that  Courtesy  is 
our  Due  until  we've  proven  ourselves  unworthy 
of  it.' 

'  So,'  says  she,  not  a  whit  disturbed,  '  and  Latin 
besides !  Tis  a  liberal  Education  and  I  cry  you  par- 
don.' 

'  It's  a  good  Legend,'  says  I,  still  standing  above 
her  and  reading  it  off  softly,  '  but  it  lacks  a  Word  that 
should  be  between  us,  Cousin.' 

'  What  Word  is  that  ? '  she  asks,  thrown  off  her 
guard. 

'  Let  me  be  your  Master  and  teach  you,'  says  I  mon- 
ii 


God's  Puppets 


strous  gently,  '  put  your  Finger  on  that  second  Letter 
there — come,  come,  'twill  not  bite  you.' 

She  was  holding  a  small  Twig  and  suddenly  she 
flicked  it  down  on  the  Letter  and  looked  up  at  me — 
I  had  not  expected  such  Obedience,  and  my  Face 
showed  as  much. 

'  You'll  find  me  a  ready  Scholar,'  she  laughs. 

'  Say  "  a  "  then,'  says  I. 

'  Oh  master,  "  a,"  '  she  drawls  with  the  killingest 
Sigh  imaginable. 

'  Now  this  Letter  here,'  says  I, '  not  "  v,"  but  "  m  "— 
say  it.' 

' "  M." ' 

I  put  my  Hand  on  hers  to  guide  the  little  Stick 
further  along  to  a  weather-stained  Vowel,  but  she 
snatched  it  quickly  away  and  jumped  to  her  feet. 

'  What,  another  Letter,  and  still  another  ? '  she 
mocks,  with  a  Glance  that  convinced  me  she  was  not 
ignorant  of  my  Meaning.  '  Tis  too  difficult  a  Task 
for  my  indifferent  Parts,  Captain  Bellenden.  I  never 
could  learn  it  in  a  year  of  Sundays.' 

'  It  might  take  time,'  says  I  looking  hard  at  her,  '  but 
I  promise  to  teach  you.' 

'  In  faith,  sir,  you've  a  pretty  Confidence  in  your 
Powers,'  cries  she  amazing  soft.  '  Make  me  patient ! 
You  Gentlemen  never  suffer  from  a  lack  of  Modesty. 
Will  you  ask  my  Mamma's  permission  to  be  my  In- 
structor in  this  matter,  Cousin  Bellenden  ? '  she  goes 
on  next  coaxingly.  '  She  has  hitherto  superintended 
my  Education.  And  when  shall  I  begin?  To-mor- 
row, or  the  next  Day,  or  the  Day  thereafter  ? '  Here 
the  Jade  broke  out  laughing  in  a  way  that  set  my  blood 

12 


A  Letter 

a-tingling,  and  she  looked  so  devilish  handsome,  and 
defiant,  that  I  didn't  know  whether  I  wanted  most  to 
kiss  her,  or  to  shake  her. 

'  What's  the  jest,  Peggy  ? '  cries  her  Brother  com- 
ing up. 

'  Share  it  with  us,  you  dear  Creature,'  puts  in  one 
of  the  Visitors,  '  I'm  so  low  in  my  Mind  because  my 
Woman  has  just  broke  my  gilded  Indian  fan.' 

Miss  shot  me  a  Look  as  she  greeted  her  Friends  and 
named  me  to  them. 

'  "Pis  a  Latin  jest,'  she  says  soberly,  though  her 
Eyes  danced,  '  that  truly  would  suffer  from  Transla- 
tion and  besides,'  here  she  glanced  at  me  again,  '  'tis 
only  amusing  to  Two,  isn't  it,  Cousin  ?  La,  Mamma,' 
she  goes  on,  '  the  Captain  is  prodigiously  learned. 
His  Excellency  ought  to  secure  him  for  Instructor  at 
the  new  College,  for  his  Talents  are  wasted  as  a  mere 
Soldier.  He'd  be  of  vast  Assistance  to  the  young 
Gentlemen  in  a  most  important  Branch.  Won't  you 
take  my  word  for  it,  Madam,  and  persuade  His  Ex- 
cellency ?  ' 

'  La,  child,  you  talk  a  deal  of  Nonsense,'  interrupts 
Mamma  sharply — she  didn't  relish  the  Laugh  she  didn't 
understand, '  and  we've  had  enough  of  your  Jests/ 

I  protest  'twas  my  own  thought,  and  glad  was  I  to 
take  my  Leave  soon  thereafter,  for  I  don't  like  being 
routed  by  a  mere  Chit.  And  there  was  no  fighting  her 
before  all  the  Company.  Egad,  she  kept  it  up  to  the 
very  last  and  called  after  me  and  Larry  as  we  walked 
away  (for  he  offered  to  accompany  me  to  the  Coffee- 
house). 

'  'Twould  be  a  thousand  pities  to  let  your  Talents 
13 


God's  Puppets 

rust,  Cousin^  so  if  there's  no  Vacancy  at  the  College 
you  might  give  me  a  Lesson  in  Lul-Lul-Latin  some- 
times, to  keep  your  Hand  in — that  is,  if  my  Mamma 
is  willing.' 

The  little  Vixen !  'twill  go  hard  with  me  if  I  don't 
get  even  with  her  one  Day.  Meanwhile,  I  find  I've 
wrote  my  Paper  out  and  like  enough  your  Patience; 
so  no  more  for  the  Present  from  your  true, 

JACK. 

N.B.  My  cousin  Peggy  is  full  Eighteen,  her 
Brother  says  (I'd  thought  her  younger),  and  on  his 
Authority  she's  a  deuced  tender-hearted,  merry  Minx 
for  all  her  sharp  Tongue.  Merry,  yes,  I'll  chime  to 
that,  but  tender-hearted — no!  'Twere  easier  talking 
Sentiment  to  a  Potato  than  to  that  young  Jade,  and 
Larry  himself  owns  that  she  laughs  at  Love  and  flouts 
her  swains  past  Endurance,  while  they — poor  Fools! 
—dance  Attendance  on  her  least  Whim.  Since  my 
coming  I've  heard  the  Toast:  'All  Glasses  to  the 
lovely  Peggy ! '  uttered  again  and  again,  but  little  I 
thought  'twas  Tony  Crewe's  Daughter.  Sink  me,  but 
I'll  drink  that  Bumper  whenever  they  give  it,  though 
Jack  Bellenden  is  not  to  be  snared  by  her  dark  Eyes. 
I'll  pledge  my  Cousin  in  Friendship  always,  but  never 
once  in  Love. 


II 

THE  GARDEN  STREET  CHURCH 

The  bell  of  the  Garden  Street  church  tolled  heavily, 
one  beat  solemn  and  slow,  then  silence — while  the  air 
echoed  the  reverberations  moaning,  another  beat — 
and  still  another.  Steadily,  relentlessly,  it  pealed,  its 
voice  differing  widely  from  the  one  it  used  the  first 
day  of  the  week.  At  that  time  the  mounting  chime 
which  sang  "  come  worship  here  "  held  a  species  of 
sanctified  merriment,  as  it  were,  in  its  invitation,  but 
this  other  clanging  boom,  though  it  also  indicated  the 
opening  of  a  portal,  was  resonant  with  sorrow.  And 
had  it  not  been  for  that  swinging  point  of  darkness 
against  the  blue  it  would  have  been  difficult  to  believe 
that  the  same  mouthpiece  could  give  forth  such  diverse 
sounds. 

If  there  was  one  thing  the  parishioners  of  the  old 
Dutch  church  prided  themselves  upon,  aside  from 
their  piety,  and  their  own  high  standing  in  the  com- 
munity where  it  had  pleased  a  gracious  Providence  to 
call  them,  it  was  this  bell — the  first  of  its  kind  upon  the 
island  of  Manhattan.  Had  not  the  Indians  in  those 
early  times  listened,  dumb  with  wonderment,  as  it  rang 
out  its  changes,  deeming  it  the  voice  of  the  Great  Spirit 
so  clarion  clear  it  spoke  ?  What  if  the  bell  in  the  Mid- 
dle Dutch  Church,  farther  up  town  in  Crown  Street, 

15 


God's  Puppets 

claimed — and  could  substantiate  its  claim  by  well-at- 
tested proofs — that  on  the  occasion  of  its  casting  silver 
coins  had  been  thrown  into  the  other  metals  by  those 
good  citizens  of  Amsterdam,  was  it  the  only  bell  cast 
overseas?  Was  it  the  only  bell  to  come  from  the 
fatherland  with  silver  in  its  heart  and  tongue?  And, 
moreover,  could  it,  or  any  other  in  York  Colony,  show 
so  long  a  record  as  this  one  ? 

Before  the  rule  of  the  English  the  bell  had  swung 
in  the  belfry  inside  the  Fort,  when  the  Fort  bore  a 
Dutch  name  and  was  governed  by  Dutch  officials, 
and  there  it  remained  when,  the  dominion  of  Their 
High  Mightinesses  the  States-General  coming  to  an 
end,  New  Amsterdam  became  New  York.  Amid  the 
changes  it  had  known  no  change,  but  had  gone  on 
with  its  utterances — Dutch  for  the  Dutch  in  the  morn- 
ing, when  the  rubicund-faced  burghers,  with  their 
wives  and  children,  walked  solemnly  into  the  little 
sanctuary — and  English  for  the  English  in  the  after- 
noon when  His  Excellency,  the  Governor,  with  his 
staff  and  the  members  of  his  household,  came  clatter- 
ing into  the  church  for  the  Episcopal  service.  Once, 
for  a  short  space,  when  New  York  was  New  Orange 
the  bell  had  welcomed  its  true  people  with  jubilant 
peals,  and  then,  until  the  century  had  almost  reached 
its  close,  it  swung  in  its  place,  knowing  English  rule 
but  keeping  its  sturdy  Dutch  heart  and  doing  its  duty 
in  shine,  or  storm,  with  no  accent  of  churlishness  to 
mar  its  beauty. 

It  had  come  to  its  own,  however,  in  Garden  Alley, 
the  little  blossoming  lane  that  diverged  from  the  thor- 
oughfare. There,  in  the  midst  of  Mrs.  Domine  Dris- 

16 


The  Garden  Street  Church 

ius'  peach-orchard,  it  found  its  home  within  sight  of 
trim  flower-beds  where,  in  their  season,  lily-cups 
chimed  along  their  slim,  green  stems,  the  foxglove 
rang  its  fairy  music,  and  the  bluebells  sounded  a  joyful 
peal  to  the  hearing  of  the  vagrant  butterflies  frequent- 
ing the  spot.  And  high  above  them  all,  in  its  perch 
against  the  sky,  the  bell,  as  it  vibrated  to  and  fro,  noted 
the  changes  in  the  lane  at  its  feet  which,  with  the  pass- 
ing of  time,  became  a  street  and,  as  it  swept  out  to  its 
limit,  caught  glimpses  of  the  little  world  beyond  and 
the  alterations  written  there  by  the  hand  of  Progress 
and  Fashion. 

Flowers  still  nodded  from  the  gardens  of  near-by 
dwelling-houses,  as  fragrant  as  those  of  earlier  days. 
It  had  seen  them  come  and  go,  year  after  year,  in  the 
more  than  half  century  that  it  had  kept  guard  in  the 
brick  steeple,  missing  their  brightness  at  one  time, 
cheered  by  their  brightness  as  speedily  again,  for  win- 
ter and  summer  slip  by  with  wings.  It  was  not  jeal- 
ous of  their  music,  nor  of  the  flutings  of  birds  in  neigh- 
boring trees  and  hedges,  nor  of  those  other  sounds 
— that  came  with  the  years,  breaking  the  noon-day 
stillness — the  shouts  and  cries  of  the  boys  swarming 
out  of  the  Free  Dutch  school  on  the  opposite  side  of 
the  way.  Often,  too,  the  jingling  note  of  the  pie-man, 
or  the  voice  of  the  vender  calling:  "  hot,  spiced  ginger- 
bread, smoking  hot!  "  increased  the  jubilation  of  the 
darting  throng. 

But  on  Sundays  the  old,  brooding  calm  returned, 
and  between  the  throbs  of  the  bidding-bell  one  could 
hear  the  solemn  tread  of  the  church-goers,  fewer  in 
number  than  formerly,  for  Death  had  called  to  many, 

17 


God's  Puppets 


and  others  had  been  lured  away  by  that  voice  from 
Amsterdam  with  its  silver  cry.  Only  a  comparative 
few  remained  to  worship  in  the  old  place,  yet  un- 
daunted by  this  change  the  bell  chimed  forth  its  in- 
vitation as  cheerily  as  ever :  "  Come  to  pray — to  pray 
— to  pray." 

Jan  Praa,  full  of  years  though  he  was,  could  make 
the  syllables  fairly  sing  themselves  into  the  ears  of  the 
godly,  and  the  ungodly  alike.  It  was  only  when 
Evert  Fels,  strong  in  the  dignity  of  his  office,  gripped 
the  rope  that  the  melody  changed  and,  dirge-like  and 
solemn,  the  words  "  gone  away — away — away  "  an- 
swered to  the  touch  of  his  resolute  hand.  Then  the 
bell  of  the  Garden  Street  church  revealed  the  whole 
gamut  of  human  suffering — despair,  bitterness,  loss, — 
and  what  seemed  farthest  from  its  blithe  nature  was 
but  part  of  it  after  all,  as  the  lightest  of  characters  holds 
at  bottom  those  deeper  feelings  which  only  leap  to  the 
surface  under  the  stroke  of  sorrow. 

On  this  May  morning  Jan  Praa  listened  to  the  mourn- 
ful strains  with  sentiments  which,  since  all  flesh  is 
grass,  he  was  mindful  ought  to  be  composed  chiefly 
of  resignation,  tinctured  by  a  mild  regret  at  the  de- 
cease of  a  brother,  but  which  were  so  dominated  by 
discontent  as  to  convict  him  of  the  charge  of  envy. 
At  all  other  times  he  was  proud  of  his  many-officed 
position  and  would  not  have  exchanged  it  with  any 
man.  The  coming  of  Evert  Fels  within  his  line  of 
vision,  however,  dispelled  his  satisfaction  with  more 
rapidity  than  the  snow  in  the  spring-time  vanished 
from  Flattenbarrack  hill.  Of  what  use  was  it  to  be 
voorleezer  (that  position  he  had  assumed  on  the  death 

18 


The  Garden  Street  Church 

of  the  former  incumbent  some  few  years  back  and 
which  represented  the  height  of  his  ambition),  sexton, 
and  bell-ringer,  as  the  exigency  of  the  occasion  de- 
manded, when  he  was  not  an  aanspreecker?  It  had 
never  been  his  lot  to  go  from  house  to  house  with  the 
news  of  some  person's  death  and  invite  the  attendance 
of  friends  and  relatives  at  the  funeral.  That  duty  be- 
longed to  another!  There  was  no  one  in  town  to 
dispute  his  supremacy  and  the  additional  fact  that, 
only  a  few  days  before,  the  Weekly  Post-Boy  had  con- 
tained an  announcement  that  Evert  Pels — the  New 
York  inviter — (Jan  felt  his  neckcloth  bind  him  at  the 
remembrance  of  the  phrase)  had  changed  his  resi- 
dence and  could  be  found  next  to  King's  stores,  proved 
that  he  was  willing  to  serve  the  English,  or  those 
of  mixed  ancestry,  who  should  leave  directions  that 
their  funerals  be  conducted  in  the  old  Dutch  fashion. 
And  rumor  had  it  that  he  was  growing  rich  in  the  mo- 
nopoly ! 

Jan  glowered  wrathfully  before  him.  That  cunning 
hand  might  toll  the  bells  farther  up  town  and  the  som- 
bre-apparelled messenger  of  death  might  strut  through 
streets  and  lanes  with  a  queue  of  wondering  children 
awed  into  silence  at  his  heels ;  he  might  pause  at  happy 
homes  along  the  way  and  by  his  presence  hint  at  the 
mortality  of  all  humanity,  but  Jan  Praa,  busy  over  his 
own  tasks,  could  be  oblivious  to  the  triumphal  progress. 
This  intrusion  of  his  own  premises,  however,  was 
wholly  different.  To  have  the  aanspreecker  boldly  in- 
vade the  precincts  of  the  church  of  St.  Nicholas,  de- 
mand its  key  and  turn  its  rightful  sexton  and  bellringer 
without,  was  gall  and  wormwood  to  the  listening  man 

19 


God's  Puppets 


whose  curiosity  and  bitterness  kept  him  chained  to 
the  spot. 

"  I  might  crawl  in  through  the  basement,"  he  mut- 
tered desperately,  "  and  I  will  too — steady,  Jan,  steady 
boy! — there's  no  knowing  when  he'll  stop,  and  if  he 
should  find  you  peeking  he'd  have  to  begin  tolling  the 
bell  again  in  no  time — he's  twice  your  size !  Patience, 
lad,  patience !  That  would  be  eighteen  shillings  in  his 
pockets,  you  know." 

He  sighed  dismally;  the  idea  of  increasing  Evert 
Fels's  already  considerable  store  by  his  demise  was  so 
obnoxious  as  to  make  him  wish  on  the  moment  that  he 
belonged  to  the  race  of  Struldbrugs.  "  Sacrament," 
he  growled,  "  I  won't  die  until  after  he's  gone.  He 
sha'n't  fatten  off  my  bones." 

He  seated  himself  upon  the  church  steps  and  rocked 
backward  and  forward  in  the  sunlight.  The  street  was 
very  still,  save  for  that  strident  voice  in  mid-air,  but  he 
could  see  the  occupants  of  the  houses  across  the  way 
peering  from  doors  and  windows  and  he  knew  that  they 
were  wondering,  even  as  he  was,  and  trying  to  spell 
out  the  meaning  of  the  dolorous  sounds. 

That  the  deceased  belonged  to  the  Garden  Street 
church  the  voice  of  its  bell  testified,  but  who  he  was, 
or  of  what  status  in  the  congregation,  the  perturbed 
sexton  could  not  tell.  He  made  a  hasty  mental  re- 
view of  the  parishioners.  There  was  old  Mynheer  de 
Hooge,  who  had  not  set  foot  within  the  church  since 
the  new  year — such  a  punctilious,  God-fearing  man  as 
he  was  too! — everyone  knew  he  was  failing  fast,  still 
the  creaking  door  is  apt  to  hang  the  longest  and  it  might 
not  be  he.  Then  there  was  Mevrouw  Van  Giesen — 

20 


The  Garden  Street  Church 

she  had  absented  herself  from  the  Lord's  house  for  a 
month  or  more,  and  illness  might  have  been  the  true 
cause,  though  it  was  whispered  about  that  she  was  tired 
of  Dutch  ways  and  had  been  seen  at  Trinity  amid  the 
fashionable  folk  there — children  of  Beelzebub! — as 
gayly  attired  as  the  best  of  them,  and  Johannes  Van 
Giesen  under  ground  scarce  a  twelvemonth.  The  old 
man's  face  darkened  wrathfully,  though  it  brightened 
the  next  moment  as  a  new  thought  appealed  to  him. 
The  deceased  might  be  little  Petrus  Bickers — that 
young  limb  of  Satan  whose  early  translation  would  be 
but  the  removal  of  a  brand  ostensibly  marked  for  the 
burning.  And  besides,  here  Jan  rubbed  his  hands  in 
great  glee,  it  would  mean  only  eight  shillings  in  Evert 
Fels's  pocket. 

The  bell  tolled  slowly,  lingering  on  the  eleventh 
stroke  as  though  about  to  cease  then,  to  one  listener's 
dismay,  it  caught  up  the  rhythm  with  the  twelfth  boom 
and  rolled  forth  again — a  new  agony  in  its  note.  It  was 
not  little  Petrus  after  all,  he  was  spared  to  be  the  tor- 
ment of  the  sexton  of  St.  Nicholas's,  while  incidentally 
the  aanspreecker's  fees  would  be  larger.  There  was  just 
the  chance,  however,  that  they  might  stop  short  of  eigh- 
teen shillings  and  considerably  appeased  by  this  pros- 
pect Jan  counted  the  measured  strokes  hoping  that  each 
would  be  the  last,  but  still  they  went  on — nineteen — 
twenty —  Again  there  came  that  momentary  hesitation 
then,  resistless  as  fate  and  grim  as  the  fact  it  chronicled, 
the  bell  climbed  up  the  numbers.  What  did  less  or 
more  signify  now?  Evert  Fels  had  gained  his  full 
wage — the  fullest  the  law  allowed — but  there  was  no 
diminution  of  zeal  on  his  part.  He  swept  the  rope  with 

21 


God's  Puppets 


his  mighty  hands  without  haste,  without  rest,  and  all 
Garden  Street  throbbed  with  the  sounds  that  reached 
through  to  the  Broadway  and  mingled  with  the  gay 
strains  of  the  band  there,  where  the  soldiers  were  on 
parade. 

Presently  the  voice  of  the  bell  ceased,  ending  with 
a  note,  part  shriek,  part  sob,  like  the  wail  of  some  lost 
soul  and  for  a  long  minute  the  air  quivered  with  the 
vibration,  then  gradually  the  stillness  of  the  street  set- 
tled down  again — the  same  but  with  a  difference — for 
the  sonorous  tongue  had  awakened  a  new  train  of 
thoughts  in  the  breasts  of  all  who  had  listened  to  its 
tidings.  Jan  Praa  hardly  noted  its  cessation  as  he  sat 
nursing  his  impotent  wrath;  the  age  of  the  departed 
might  be  a  thousand  as  far  as  he  was  concerned,  he  had 
lost  all  count.  Suddenly  the  door  back  of  him  was 
opened  violently  and  the  aanspreecker  stepped  proudly 
forth  and  began  to  descend  the  steps.  The  rusty  crape 
streamer  which  adorned  his  hat  flapped  tantalizingly  in 
Jan's  face  and  the  long  black  cloak  whipped  against 
his  body;  he  caught  the  edge  of  it  between  his  fin- 
gers. 

"  Who?  "  he  managed  to  articulate. 

The  inviter  drew  his  garment  away  and  folded  it 
closer  about  him.  He  was  a  tall,  gaunt  man  whose 
height  was  increased  by  the  straight  lines  of  his  dress 
and  his  large  conical  hat ;  he  seemed  to  tower  far  above 
the  squat  figure  of  the  sexton.  He  wore  a  full  wig  of 
coarse  black  hair  which  was  left  untied  and  fell,  with 
every  motion  of  his  head,  in  heavy  strands  across  his 
face  and  through  which  his  little  dark  eyes  peered  as 
from  a  screen,  with  something  sinister  in  their  gleam. 

22 


The  Garden  Street  Church 

Save  for  the  flabby  pallor  of  his  countenance  he  was 
like  a  figure  carved  out  of  ebony. 

"  I've  some  good  Brazile  here,"  Jan  said  irrelevantly. 

For  the  briefest  moment  the  heavy  face  lost  its 
lugubrious  expression,  then  the  set  mask  resumed  its 
imperturbability  again.  But  the  watchful  sexton  was 
as  quick  to  note  the  change  as  he  was  to  see  the  half 
extended  hand,  hidden  though  it  was  in  the  folds  of  the 
aanspreecker's  cloak.  He  drew  a  small  box  from  the 
pocket  of  his  leather  apron  and  shook  some  of  its  con- 
tents into  the  huge  palm. 

Evert  Pels  moved  a  step  or  two  away  on  the  narrow 
walk,  halted  there  and  lifted  his  staff,  waving  it  sol- 
emnly several  times  in  front  of  Jan's  fascinated  eyes. 
After  a  short  interval  he  began  to  speak  in  Dutch,  the 
language  he  always  used  to  his  compatriots,  uttering 
a  medley  of  phrases  which  he  had  woven  into  a  for- 
mula of  his  own,  in  a  gruff,  sing-song  key. 

"  Comfort  ye,  comfort  ye  my  people  saith  your  God. 
Tis  a  day  when  the  grasshopper  is  a  burden,  when  his 
hops  are  leaden  with  sorrow.  Man  cometh  up  like  a 
flower  and  goeth  down  like  the  same,  and  the  place  that 
knew  him  once  shall  know  him  from  this  time  hence- 
forth and  forever  no  more — no  more —  Alack!  alas! 
that  what  our  brother  hath  garnered  must  be  strewn  by 
another's  hand,  but  we  brought  nothing  into  this  world 

and  certain  it  is  we  can  carry  nothing  with  us  when  we 
» 

"  Then  it  is  Mynheer  de  Hooge,"  Jan  interrupted  in 
great  excitement. 

The  aanspreecker  glowered  wrathfully  at  the  speaker 
and  without  another  word  turned  his  back  and  strode 

23 


God's  Puppets 


off  down  the  street.  After  a  moment  the  sexton,  his 
curiosity  getting  the  better  of  his  discomfiture,  hastened 
after  him,  running  a  little  to  keep  up  with  his  gigantic 
strides.  The  black  clad  figure  paused  at  the  first  house 
like  some  ugly  shadow  and  Jan,  in  his  turn,  came  to  a 
sudden  halt.  Then  the  great  staff  smote  the  door 
which  flew  wide  on  the  instant,  as  if  the  summons  were 
some  ghastly  open  sesame,  and  disclosed  a  group  of 
trembling  women  and  children  huddled  together  in  the 
hall-way.  There  was  no  danger  of  interruption  from 
any  of  their  number  and,  well  assured  of  this  fact,  Fels 
threw  back  his  head  pompously  and  began  to  declaim 
his  formula  in  his  usual  sonorous  fashion.  As  he  fin- 
ished he  let  his  voice  sink  to  a  grewsome  whisper  which 
seemed  to  penetrate  to  the  farthermost  corner  of  the 
house  and  did  not  escape  the  listener  without. 

"  Gathered  to  his  fathers  is  Johannes  de  Hooge, 
sleeping  in  the  Lord,  atat  eighty.  Life  is  short, 
friends,  man  that  is  born  of  woman  has  but  a  little 
day." 

There  was  a  momentary  pause,  then,  in  quick  stac- 
cato tones  smacking  solely  of  business,  the  inviter  ad- 
vised his  hearers  of  the  day  and  hour  of  the  funeral  and 
requested  their  honorable  presence  at  the  late  home  of 
the  departed.  The  message  delivered,  he  stalked  out 
into  the  street  again,  stopping  with  the  same  tidings  at 
each  house  named  in  the  list  which  fluttered  from  his 
girdle.  The  air  resounded  with  the  noise  of  those 
heavy  knockings,  and  the  tap-tap  of  his  staff  along  the 
walk  made  a  constant  comment  on  his  progress. 

So  he  passed  at  last  from  the  neighborhood  to  the 
thoroughfare  beyond,  and  Jan,  smarting  with  the  sense 

24 


The  Garden  Street  Church 

of  his  rival's  supremacy,  followed  him  in  fancy,  real- 
izing with  the  bitterest  pang  of  all  that  not  even  Myn- 
heer de  Hooge,  brought  suddenly  into  prominence  by 
his  decease,  was  of  so  much  importance  as  he  who 
chronicled  the  way  to  dusty  death. 


Ill 

r       IN  ANNETJE'S  GARDEN 

The  neighbors  spoke  of  it  as  Domine  Ryerssen's 
garden,  whereas  in  reality  it  belonged  to  Annetje  his 
daughter.  The  birds,  and  bees,  and  nodding  flowers 
that  made  it  their  home  were  wiser,  for  they  knew  and 
acknowledged  her  to  be  mistress.  At  first  she  crowed 
and  blinked  at  the  budding  beauties  from  the  vantage 
ground  of  Heilke's  arms,  grasping  exultantly  at  the 
riches  within  reach ;  then,  grown  a  little  older,  she  trot- 
ted untiringly  after  Jan,  watching  him  at  work  and 
imitating  him  in  her  turn.  Here,  or  there,  in  some  re- 
mote sunshiny  corner,  or  even  in  the  midst  of  the  brown 
paths,  she  made  her  posy  beds;  bits  of  grass  waved 
their  tiny  blades  in  air  like  so  many  swords  of  com- 
batant fairies,  short-stemmed  flowers,  plucked  when  no 
one  was  looking,  were  planted  close  to  the  heart  of  the 
great  mother  and  with  them  all  a  child's  dearest  hopes. 
They  never  answered  to  her  coaxing,  nor  rewarded  her 
expectancy ;  sometimes  she  would  find  the  bright,  pretty 
things  crushed  and  dirt  bedraggled  and  in  the  near-by 
loam  the  print  of  an  immense  foot  to  mark  the  passing 
of  the  destroyer,  or  they  drooped  beneath  the  pitiless 
sun  or  rain ;  disappointed,  she  would  bedew  them  with 
tears  and  cast  them  forth  in  wrath,  only  to  begin  her 
planting  the  next  day  with  undiminished  ardor.  Over 

26 


In  Annetje's  Garden 

and  over  the  little  tragi-comedy  was  enacted  through 
the  spring,  and  summer  and  she,  knowing  no  better, 
suffered  the  same  heart-aches  and — miracle  of  child- 
hood !  kept  her  faith  entire. 

The  years  brought  wisdom.  A  little  later  she  swag- 
gered through  the  garden  with  a  tiny  rake  of  Jan's  fash- 
ioning slanted  over  her  shoulder  and,  hanging  from  her 
arm,  an  infinitesimal  basket  which  held  small  paper 
cornucopias,  grimy  and  broken  from  much  handling, 
containing  seeds.  These  latter  she  filtered  through  her 
chubby  fingers  into  a  certain  heart-shaped  bed  marked 
by  a  low  border  of  box.  Oh  those  days  of  planting  and 
the  mysteries  of  investigation  that  followed!  Nature 
must  be  watched  and  heartened  at  her  task.  The  seeds 
were  lonely,  or  afraid,  or  cold,  or  warm,  or  lazy — and 
away  down  there  in  the  earth  how  could  they  hear  wind 
and  sun  calling  to  them?  Excuses  multiplied  with 
every  passing  hour  to  account  for  the  tireless,  explor- 
ing fingers.  Now  and  again  some  wary  little  seed 
eluded  capture  and  presently  thrust  up  a  curious  head 
to  see  what  the  world  was  like,  but  the  wonder  of  its 
coming  was  so  unexpected  that  it  had  to  be  borne  off  in 
instant  triumph.  That  summer  the  heart-shaped  bed 
was  a  reproachful  blot  upon  the  fairness  of  the  sur- 
rounding garden — another  year  it  was  a  little  greener 
and  more  blessed,  and  a  third  it  presented  a  brave  front 
even  to  Jan's  critical  eyes  and  was  its  own  best  excuse 
for  being. 

Thereafter  Annetje  became  first  a  disciple  of  the  old 
man's,  then  for  a  time  his  equal,  and  then  suddenly  one 
day  she  reached  her  sovereignty  at  a  bound.  It  was 
she  who  gave  directions,  she  who,  when  the  April 

27 


God's  Puppets 


mornings  came,  sallied  forth  to  her  labors  in  her  trim- 
ly pinned-up  gown  and  great  calash,  with  her  rake  and 
her  little  painted  basket  of  seeds,  seeking  advice  from 
no  one.  Jan  let  his  authority  go  without  a  murmur, 
recognizing  that  after  the  garden  was  dug  in  the  spring 
he  had  no  right  there  save  as  he  was  bidden  to  assist  in 
the  weeding,  or  at  other  tasks  under  the  girl's  orders. 
The  care  of  plants  was  regarded  as  distinctively  the 
woman's  province  in  the  Dutch  community  and  An- 
netje  had  only  come  to  her  own  a  little  earlier  than  most 
of  her  sex. 

It  was  an  old  garden  before  the  girl  became  its  mis- 
tress, one  that  sprang  into  being  just  as  the  seventeenth 
century  was  passing  away,  when  the  pastor  of  the  Gar- 
den street  church  set  up  his  household-gods  in  its  midst, 
and  to  his  wife  had  fallen  the  charge  of  transforming 
this  portion  of  land  in  the  new  world  into  some  sem- 
blance of  the  garden  she  had  loved  over-seas.  If  she 
and  Mother  Drisius  had  continual  disputes  about  their 
respective  territories,  the  flowers  were  none  the  less 
sweet  because  of  the  grudging  thoughts  they  awak- 
ened ;  nor  were  the  herbs  less  efficacious  in  the  domestic 
pharmacopoeia  and  cuisine.  The  rivalries  came  to  an 
end  soon  enough  and  only  the  gardens  remained.  That 
of  the  dominie's  wife  under  the  rule  of  her  successor 
showed  a  more  lavish  display  of  blooming  things  and  a 
richer  array  of  color.  Rivers  of  tulips  and  hyacinths 
streamed  along  the  paths  flaunting  defiant  faces  above 
the  barriers  of  box  that  kept  them  in  bounds,  and  in 
their  proper  season  there  were  "  paus  bloemens  of  all 
hues,  laylocks  and  tall  May  roses  and  snowballs,  inter- 
mixed with  choice  vegetables  and  herbs."  Then  her 

28 


In  Annetje's  Garden 

little  day  reached  its  close  and  house  and  land  passed 
into  other  hands. 

Their  new  owner  was  a  man  who  made  but  few  de- 
mands on  life.  If  the  house  had  been  a  hovel,  so  long 
as  it  sheltered  him  and  his  beloved  books  from  the  stress 
of  the  elements  he  asked  nothing  more.  The  stiffly 
laid  out,  but  beautiful,  beds  of  luxuriant  bloom  that 
crept  up  to  his  door  were  barely  regarded  by  him,  save 
when  they  offered  a  fitting,  though  general,  figure  for 
his  sermons ;  the  names  of  the  different  blossoms  con- 
veyed no  meaning  to  him. 

From  the  first  coming  of  Domine  Ryerssen  Jan,  who 
had  already  served  several  years  at  the  Garden  Street 
church  as  sexton  and  bellringer,  added  the  duties  of  the 
minister's  garden  to  his  other  cares,  gladly  taking  up 
his  abode  in  the  parsonage  at  the  domine's  suggestion 
and  identifying  himself  thenceforth  with  its  interests. 
He  was  a  passionate  horticulturist  and  resented  that 
the  place  should  go  to  waste,  as  would  have  been  the 
case  but  for  his  intervention.  The  domine  had  no 
knowledge  of  flowers,  while  Heilke,  his  housekeeper, 
was  satisfied  with  the  herbs  from  which  she  com- 
pounded many  wholesome  and  bitter  curatives.  It  was 
enough  for  her  that  her  beloved  tufts  of  Donderbloem 
were  planted  near  the  house  as  "  a  defensative  against 
thunder,"  and  incidentally  to  furnish  her  with  its  leaves 
which  she  used  for  many  purposes,  boiling  them  in  milk 
for  a  pleasant  drink  to  be  given  in  time  of  fever,  mix- 
ing their  juices  with  honey  for  a  sure  cure-all  for  sore 
throats,  or  simmering  them  with  cream  for  an  emollient 
application  for  erysipelas.  There  was,  indeed,  no  herb 
in  the  length  and  breadth  of  the  garden  (and  there  were 

29 


God's  Puppets 


many)  which  held  so  high  a  place  in  her  esteem,  but 
the  flowers  in  which  Jan  took  so  much  pride  won  no 
praise  from  her.  They  were  only  useful — this  grudg- 
ingly— in  proportion  as  they  yielded  their  sweets  to 
those  domestic  marauders  the  bees,  for  crowning  glory 
in  Heilke's  sight  were  the  benches  full  of  bee-skepes 
and  wooden  hives  set  a-row  under  the  quince-trees  and 
the  well-filled  dove-cote  near-by  that  cast  its  long 
shadow  almost  to  their  feet.  The  soft  flutter  of  wings 
and  the  stir  of  busy  life  were  music  to  her^  whereas 
color  and  fragrance  held  no  meaning  in  their  mes- 
sage. 

There  was  therefore  no  one  to  wrest  Jan's  sceptre 
from  him  for  years.  Then  the  domine's  wife  came,  a 
soft  girlish  presence,  who  wandered  up  and  down  the 
paths,  pausing  to  bend  over  the  flowers — a  flower  her- 
self. Never  had  Jan's  supremacy  been  securer  than  in 
those  days  when  he  dreaded  to  see  it  snatched  from 
him  with  every  passing  moment,  but  she  made  no  de- 
mand during  the  short  three  years  of  her  stay.  The 
locust-trees  were  in  flower  when  she  came,  their  grace- 
ful hanging  racemes  of  pink-touched  blossoms  filling 
the  air  with  their  sensuous  perfume ;  he  reached  up  at 
her  asking  and  plucked  a  branch  for  her  and  she  held 
it  lightly  against  her  cheek  as  she  walked.  They  were 
in  blossom  again  when  she  went  away,  like  some  faintly 
glowing  torches  to  light  her  going.  She  left  no  im- 
print of  ownership  on  the  garden  that  bore  so  strongly 
the  tastes  of  those  other  owners ;  as  she  had  found  it 
so  she  relinquished  it,  resigning  the  authority  she  had 
neglected  to  a  baby's  little  hands. 

It  could  never  be  said  of  Annetje  that  she  had  failed 
30 


In  Annetje's  Garden 

in  the  work  entrusted  to  her.  Too  distinctly  Dutch  to 
make  any  great  alterations  in  the  stiffly  laid  out  beds, 
as  she  grew  older  there  yet  crept  in  certain  indisput- 
able innovations.  Flowers  that  Jan  had  seen  in  the 
gardens  of  the  English  in  Queen  and  Broad  Streets  sud- 
denly thrust  their  faces  up  at  him  in  friendly  recog- 
nition. How  they  had  found  their  way  thither  was  the 
girl's  secret;  it  was  only  asked  of  the  old  man  to  bid 
them  welcome  and  note  their  beauty,  which  he  did  un- 
grudgingly, because  the  good  God  had  made  them  after 
all  and  not  the  English  who  were  anathema  in  Jan's 
eyes.  That  the  good  God  had  also  made  the  Briton 
was  something  which  he  was  not  so  ready  to  admit; 
the  inroads  their  speech  was  making  in  the  Dutch  com- 
munity seemed  to  him  the  work  of  the  Evil  one. 

The  large  English  immigration  and  the  government 
of  the  colony,  as  well  as  the  constant  requirements  and 
influences  of  commerce  and  the  frequent  intermarriages 
of  the  English  and  Dutch,  had  robbed  the  language  of 
the  latter  of  its  predominance  by  the  middle  of  the  eigh- 
teenth century.  Despoiled  in  great  measure  of  its 
power,  though  it  was,  it  still  held  its  ground  with  the 
pertinacity  which  has  been  one  of  the  dominant  charac- 
teristics of  its  people.  In  the  more  conservative  house- 
holds and  in  those  where  the  inmates  were  of  pure 
Dutch  origin  no  other  speech  was  employed,  as  was 
also  the  case  in  the  Dutch  Reformed  church ;  there  the 
services  were  conducted  entirely  in  the  beloved  tongue, 
there  was  given  "  the  gospel  undefiled  in  Holland 
Dutch,"  and  there  also  were  chanted  the  hymns  of  the 
Fatherland.  Though  English  was  recognized,  at  this 
period,  as  the  current  language  of  the  province  it  was 


God's  Puppets 


not  yet  taught  in  the  Dutch  schools,  nor  had  it  en- 
tirely superseded  the  speech  of  the  earlier  settlers  of 
New  York  at  the  wharf  or  in  the  counting-house. 

Jan  understood  the  language  perfectly  and  could 
speak  it  when  necessity  required,  but  it  enraged  him  to 
hear  what  he  deemed  Annetje's  fluency  in  the  tongue 
he  contemned.  Dutch  had  always  been  good  enough 
for  him  and  for  the  children  of  his  generation !  If  he 
had  any  fear,  however,  that  the  girl,  whom  he  had 
watched  over  like  a  second  father  since  her  babyhood, 
would  be  taken  for  one  of  the  hated  nationality  a  sin- 
gle glance  at  her  ought  to  have  convinced  him  other- 
wise. 

He  found  her  the  day  after  Mynheer  de  Hooge's 
funeral  at  work  in  the  garden.  She  was  singing  to 
herself,  but  at  his  approach  she  broke  off  in  her  song 
and  stood  erect,  clasping  her  hands  behind  her  neck 
and  drawing  a  long,  deep  breath.  The  face  she  turned 
toward  him,  with  the  little  smile  of  welcome  dancing 
in  her  sea-colored  eyes,  was  one  of  exquisite  loveli- 
ness. It  was  still  a  child's  face,  sweet  and  wistful,  and 
holding  the  promise  of  greater  beauty  when  the  bud 
should  become  the  flower.  She  wore  a  dress  of  some 
gray  homespun  material  with  a  tight-fitting  bodice,  the 
skirt  opening  in  front  and  looped  high  at  the  back  to 
show  her  quilted  petticoat  of  dark  blue  camblet;  her 
clocked  stockings  were  of  a  lighter  blue  and  her  high- 
heeled  shoes  were  adorned  with  little  gleaming  buckles. 
Her  calash  lay  disregarded  upon  the  ground,  her  head 
uncovered  save  for  a  small  white  cap  which  did  not 
hide  the  glinting  sheen  of  her  hair  which  was  rolled 
back  from  her  brow  escaping,  here  and  there,  in  little 

32 


In  Annetje's  Garden 

curling  tendrils  put  aside  occasionally  by  an  ineffectual 
hand.  Jan,  who  could  no  more  describe  her  appear- 
ance than  he  could  voyage  to  the  moon,  was  yet  con- 
scious that  this  was  no  English  maid,  nor  one  aping 
English  ways. 

"  You  have  so  many  flowers  like  these,"  he  said,  em- 
boldened to  comment  by  her  smiling  aspect. 

She  looked  at  him  for  a  moment  and  then  down  at 
the  little  purple  and  yellow  faces  at  her  feet ;  she  had 
been  working  at  the  heart-shaped  bed  which  was  her 
favorite  spot  in  her  whole  domain.  Beyond  her  some 
cherry  and  pear  trees  lifted  their  snowy  arms  high 
against  the  blue,  the  grass  beneath  them  white  with 
fallen  petals ;  beyond  them  again,  a  peach-tree  blushed 
at  its  own  loveliness  in  the  sun  and  farther  away 
still,  the  quince  orchard — all  misty  pink  and  waxy 
green — flung  its  perfume  like  a  message  upon  the 
air. 

"Like  what,  Jan?" 

"  T'ese  '  noan  zo  praetty,' "  he  returned  slowly  in 
English,  then  he  added  hastily  in  his  own  language. 
"  I  never  meant  it." 

"  Vat,  my  '  laties'  telights  ' — my  little  telights — you 
ton't  like  t'em?" 

"  You  taught  me  to  say  '  noan  zo  praetty '  " 

"  Oh !  t'at  vas  yestertay,  foolish  man.  To-tay  t'ey 
are  laties'  telights,  ant  to-morrow  vill  t'ey  pe  '  yump 
up  ant  kiss  me,'  and  t'e  next  tay  '  t'ree  faces  unter  a 
hoot,'  ant  after  t'at  '  Herp  Trinity '  or  '  Cuttle  unto 
you,'  or " 

"  What !  all  those  names  for  just  the  one  poor 
flower?" 

33 


God's  Puppets 


She  fell  in  with  his  humor  to  speak  their  common 
tongue. 

"  'Tis  not  a  poor  flower,  there  is  none  other  so  wel- 
come in  the  spring;  'tis  like  a  little  child's  face  ever 
laughing.  None  of  its  names,  many  as  they  are,  will 
do  for  me.  I  shall  call  it  Heart's  own,  which  is  pret- 
tier, I  think,  than  '  Heart's-ease,'  as  they  say  the  Eng- 
lish term  it." 

"  One  plain,  sensible  name  ought  to  be  enough  for 
any  flower.  We  wouldn't  trust  a  man  that  was  known 
here  by  one  name  and  there  by  another — men  would 
say  evil  of  him." 

"  Look  at  me,  Jan.  Who  am  I  ?  Father  calls  me 
Annetje  and  sometimes  Little  one,  and  Heilke  says 
White  lamb,  that's  when  things  go  well  with  her,  or 
Child,  or  Torment — 'tis  but  a  toss-up  then,  before  she 
loses  her  temper.  I  don't  fear  her  though,  until  she 
draws  the  corners  of  her  mouth  so,  and  snaps  out  Missy, 
then  I  know  it's  high  time  to  be  off.  You  call  me 
Missy,  but  I  never  want  to  run  away  from  you,  do  I  ? 
Have  I  too  many  names  ?  I  should  like  to  borrow  me 
one  from  this  flower — it  would  never  miss  it." 

"  Noan  zo  praetty,"  he  spoke  again  in  English,  his 
old  face  breaking  into  a  whimsical  smile. 

"  Flatterer,  not  that,  the  one  of  my  own  devising." 

His  expression  changed  and  she,  watching  him, 
had  the  grace  to  blush  a  little. 

"  It  has  a  nice  sound."     Her  voice  was  a  challenge. 

"  The  home  ones  are  better  in  my  ears." 

"  There  you  go,  Jan — you,  and  my  father,  and  Heilke 
would  have  me  always  mewed  up  here,  making  no  ex- 
cuse for  a  young  maid's  light-heartedness." 

34 


In  Annetje's  Garden 

"  Yes,  yes,  the  old  forget.  Well,  these  hands  will  be 
ringing  the  joy-bells  yonder  before  long,  I  doubt  not." 

"  Oh !  as  to  that — I  don't  really  like  Adrian  de  Hooge, 
Jan,  in  the  way  you  mean — you'll  never  ring  those  bells 
for  me.  It  was  all  so  terrible  yesterday  after  the 
funeral.  I  could  see  the  women  watching  me  as  they 
ate  the  burial  cakes  and  sipped  their  sangaree,  and  I 
well  knew  what  they  were  whispering  about.  And 
when  Mevrouw  de  Hooge  kissed  me  good-by  before 
them  all  it  made  me  shiver,  she  seems  so  strong  and 
as  if  she  would  have  her  way  in  all  things,  no  matter 
how  much  you  sought  to  oppose  it." 

"  Ay,  they  do  say  she  wore  the  breeches  and  that  the 
gray  mare  was  the  best  horse — but  I  don't  hold  with 
such  gossip." 

"  Adrian  is  like  her.  When  I'm  with  him  I  can  only 
think  of  a  great  bowlder — you  might  batter  yourself  to 
death  against  it,  but  you  could  never  move  it  once  it 
obstructed  your  path." 

"  He's  a  nice  lad  and  has  a  great  sufficiency  of  this 
world's  goods,  now  that  he  has  stepped  into  his  father's 
shoes,  and  he  loves  you,  little  Missy." 

"  Ye-es,  because  I  flouted  him  when  I  was  a  child 
and  because  I  am  pretty — you  said  so  yourself,  Jan — 
and  because  I  don't  care  overmuch  for  him;  reasons 
enough  to  make  a  man  like  Adrian  de  Hooge  wish  to 
win  a  maid  and  bend  her  will  to  his.  Sometimes  I 
almost  think  I  could  love  him  and  then  I  remember 
that  day — oh !  years  ago — when  he  beat  his  dog  till  his 
arm  fell  useless,  I  can  see  the  evil  look  on  his  face  still 
— and  I  grow  afraid." 

"  He's  a  high-tempered  man,  a  better  friend  than  a 
35 


God's  Puppets 


foe  any  time,  but  there  is  much  good  in  him  and  he's  a 
power  in  the  church — the  people  look  to  his  family  as 
they  would,"  Jan  stopped  and  glanced  cautiously 
around,  "  to  the  Lord  almost.  That's  what  it  is  to  be 
of  the  salt  of  the  earth  and  have  lands  and  moneys. 
He'd  be  a  bad  enemy,  remember  that  Missy !  If  the 
domine  saw  an  inch  farther  than  his  nose  he'd  tell  you 
that  it's  well,  sometimes,  to  make  friends  unto  yourself 
of  Mammon,  he  would  indeed.  And  besides,  Mynheer 
de  Hooge  is  a  true  Dutchman  and  has  a  proper  venera- 
tion for  the  old  ways " 

"  I  know  that,"  Annetje  breathed  with  a  sound,  half 
sigh,  half  laugh. 

"  We've  fallen  on  evil  times,  Missy,  there  is  back- 
sliding among  us  and  even  a  whisper,"  the  old  man's 
voice  trembled,  "  a  whisper  that  is  growing  steadily 
that  English  shall  be  spoken  in  our  churches.  Oh !  if 
that  day  should  come  and  Jan  Praa  is  in  this  sinful 
world,  may  his  right  arm  wither  and  fall  powerless  ere 
ever  it  rings  the  bidding-bell,  may  these  eyes  lose  their 
sight  before  they  behold  a  minister  of  the  Holy  Word 
so  forget  the  dignity  of  his  calling,  may  these  ears  be 
deaf  to  a  voice  that  would  praise  the  Lord  in  the  ac- 
cents of  those  accursed  people " 

"There,  there,  Jan!" 

"  I  tell  you  Adrian  de  Hooge  is  a  stanch  Dutch- 
man and  your  father  is  sure  to  stay  in  the  church  while 
he  has  his  friendship  and  the  friendship  of  his  follow- 
ers." 

"  My  father's  office  does  not  depend  upon  the  favor 
of  Mynheer  de  Hooge,  or  on  that  of  his  hangers-on, 
as  you  know  well,  Jan  Praa,  and  there's  not  the  least 

36 


In  Annetje's  Garden 

danger  of  his  adopting  the  English  speech,  even  if  the 
whole  congregation  demanded  it  of  him.  He  might 
preach  in  Latin,  or  French,  but  he  has  no  skill  in  Eng- 
lish," she  paused  suddenly,  her  face  dimpling  and  per- 
plexed at  the  same  time.  "  I  wish  I  knew  something 
about  the  Englishman,"  she  continued  half  to  herself. 

"What  Englishman?" 

"  Why,  the  one  who  was  here,  Tuesday,  haven't  you 
heard  ?  Heilke  and  I  had  seen  a  stranger  in  the  candle 
the  night  before,  and  when  there  sounded  a  great 
knock,  rat-tat-ta !  on  the  front  door  we  fell  a-trembling. 
And  Heilke,  who  was  busy  making  wonders,  bade  me 
answer  the  summons.  So  I  went  and  opened  the  upper 
half  of  the  door  quite  softly  to  see  who  it  was,  know- 
ing full  well  that  none  but  a  stranger  would  come  to 
that  entrance,  and  there  stood  an  English  officer  as  I 
saw  by  his  dress.  He  was  humming  a  song  beneath  his 
breath  and  tapping  the  step  with  the  little  cane  he  car- 
ried. He  didn't  heed  me  at  first,  and  indeed  I  was  like 
a  mouse,  so  I  was  forced  to  cough.  At  that  he  looked 
up  and  a  little  gleam  like  a  star  came  into  his  eyes.  '  Is 
Domine  Ryerssen  within  ? '  he  asked  slowly.  '  Yes 
sir,'  I  answered  in  English,  whereat  his  face  brightened, 
'  he  is  even  now  in  his  study.'  '  Tis  good  news  you 
give  me,  pretty  one,'  he  laughed,  '  and  in  pleasing 
fashion,  I  had  not  thought  to  have  my  tongue  spoke 
here,  and  so  well  spoke  too — '  Those  were  his  very 
words,  Jan !  He  took  off  his  hat  then,  and  made  me  a 
low  bow,  such  as  the  officers  make  the  ladies  in  the 
Mall,  and  he  did  not  replace  it  after  that,  but  kept  it 
against  his  breast  looking  at  me. 

"  '  Will  you  conduct  me  to  the  domine  ?  '  he  said  at 
37 


God's  Puppets 


last,  '  or  stay,  first  bear  this  message  to  him :  "  One, 
Captain  Bellenden,  a  stranger  with  tidings  from  a  dis- 
tant land,  waits  without."  Let  me  hear  you  say  it, 
child.'  I  said  the  words  after  him  two  or  three  times, 
as  was  his  pleasure,  to  make  sure  I  would  not  forget, 
then  he  let  me  go  and  I  hastened  to  my  father  and  he 
— just  as  if  the  stranger  was  some  every-day  visitor — 
bade  me  show  him  in.  When  I  had  done  that  I  dared 
not  linger,  but  as  soon  as  the  door  was  closed  I  crept 
back  and  I  heard  the  Englishman  say  with  all  the  mer- 
riment gone  from  his  voice  '  Domine  Ryerssen,  I  bring 
you  a  message  from  the  dead ' ' 

"  Na — na — impossible ! — and  then?  " 

"  I  came  away.  It  was  too  dreadful !  Only  that 
morning  Evert  Eels  had  been  here  with  his  news,  and 
in  the  afternoon  to  have  this  stranger  come — It  seemed 
as  if  death  had  thrown  his  shadow  in  through  our  very 
doors.  Heilke  says  it's  a  bad  omen " 

"  Heilke  doesn't  know  everything  in  the  world, 
though  she  may  think  so.  Has  the  domine  told  you 
aught?" 

"  Jan,"  cried  the  girl  sharply,  "  when  does  he  ever 
tell  me  aught?  Food,  clothing,  shelter,  he  gives  me, 
and  sometimes  a  word,  but  the  book  he  reads  is  more 
to  him  than  I  am." 

"  The  old  forget  the  ways  of  youth." 

"Did  he  ever  know  them?  Was  he  ever  young? 
You  have  told  me  that  he  was  old  when  my  mother  was 
here  and  she  was  a  girl  like  me ;  dead  though  she  is, 
she  is  nearer  and  dearer  to  me  than  he  can  ever  be.  I 
wonder  much  how  she  could  have  become  his  wife." 

Jan  kicked  a  stone  from  the  path. 
38 


In  Annetje's  Garden 

"  The  ways  of  women,  who  shall  discover  them  ?  " 
he  asked  sententiously,  then  he  raised  his  head,  and 
went  on  solemnly.  "  Missy,  you  are  the  child  of  your 
father's  old  age,  he  loves  you,  take  my  word  for  that ! 
but  he  hasn't  the  trick  of  petting  and  love-names. 
We're  not  the  people  to  show  our  deepest  feelings." 

Annetje  laughed  and,  stooping,  gathered  a  few  of 
the  little  flowers  at  her  feet  and  thrust  them  in  her 
bodice. 

"  I  wonder  if  the  Englishman  will  ever  come  again," 
she  said  irrelevantly. 


39 


IV 

THE  DOMINE'S  STORY 

"  Domine  Ryerssen,  I  bring  you  a  message  from  the 
dead." 

"  Vill  you  t'e  gootness  haf  to  unfolt  t'e  name  of  t'e 
senter  tireckly  ?  Ant  speak  slow,  I  peseech  you,  I  com- 
prehent  your  language,  put  not  much  felicity  haf  I  in 
speaking  it.  I  haf  your  parton  ?  " 

The  minister  spoke  slowly  enough  himself ;  his  voice 
was  deep  and  curiously  balanced  with  a  marked  stress 
in  the  intonation  which  seemed  to  weigh  his  words,  as 
if  they  were  golden  coins,  yet  it  did  not  carry  far. 
There  were  those  in  the  Garden  Street  church  who 
hinted  at  a  general  breaking-up  in  their  pastor  and  this, 
they  said,  was  one  of  the  encroachments  of  age. 

He  was  a  little,  bent-shouldered  man,  so  frail  in  ap- 
pearance that  for  years  it  had  seemed  as  if  he  and  the 
grim  shadow  were  walking  hand  in  hand,  and  yet  his 
grasp  on  life  was  so  tenacious  that  none  of  the  ills  of 
the  flesh  had  plagued  his  long  tenureship.  His  dress 
was  entirely  black,  a  trifle  rusty  from  wear  and  rig- 
orously plain,  and  his  powdered  wig,  of  an  ancient 
cut,  was  so  large  that  the  face  beneath  it  appeared  at 
first  sight  as  small  as  a  child's,  but  it  lacked  the  con- 
tour and  smoothness  of  youth  as  a  second  glance  dis- 
covered. Age  and  study  had  traced  a  network  of  lines 
across  the  drawn  yellowish  skin,  like  the  fine  writing 

40 


The  Domine's  Story 

upon  parchment,  and  the  imprint  of  the  graver  Sorrow 
was  also  there.  It  was  a  plain,  rugged  face,  unusually 
broad  in  the  brows  with  deep-set  eyes,  gray  as  steel — 
but  without  the  brilliancy  of  that  metal — quiet,  steady 
eyes  which  seemed  to  hide  more  than  they  revealed,  a 
Roman  nose,  and  a  mouth  and  chin  expressive  of  a 
strong,  dominant  will.  There  was  much  sternness  in 
his  aspect,  but  it  also  held  a  touch  of  benignity,  as  a 
frowning  crag  will  bear  a  trace  of  summer  to  crown  it 
with  its  freshness  and  be  no  anachronism  in  the  ways 
of  nature. 

The  room,  into  which  Captain  Bellenden  had  been 
ushered,  was  a  long,  rather  narrow,  apartment  lighted 
by  a  single  window  which  commanded  a  view  of  part 
of  Annetje's  garden.  The  walls  were  dull  of  hue  and 
destitute  of  adornment,  the  only  touch  of  color  being 
in  the  tiled  facing  of  mantel  and  hearth,  where  coarsely 
executed  drawings  of  scriptural  scenes  were  repre- 
sented in  lifeless  blue,  the  figures  discreetly  attired  in 
Dutch  costumes;  there  Daniel,  clad  as  a  respectable 
burgher,  dominated  the  lions  as  complacently  as 
though  they  were  cows,  which  they  closely  resembled, 
and  Miriam,  in  her  bodice  and  short  skirt,  clashed  her 
timbrels  before  the  Lord.  There  was  no  valletje— 
that  chimney-cloth  valance  so  marked  an  adjunct  of 
all  Dutch  houses — and  the  narrow  shelf  above  was  bare, 
save  for  a  pair  of  pewter  candle-sticks  and  the  snuffer 
and  tray  at  one  end;  nor  were  there  any  curtains  at 
the  window. 

The  whole  place  was  almost  puritanical  in  its  simplic- 
ity; a  few  straight-backed,  rush-leather  chairs  and  an 
oak  table,  black  with  age,  made  up  the  furniture,  with 

41 


God's  Puppets 


the  addition  of  the  tall  cherry  secretary  which  stood 
between  the  mantel  and  the  window  in  just  the  posi- 
tion where  the  westering  sun  could  gleam  the  longest 
upon  the  brass  handles  of  the  glass-panelled  doors  of 
the  upper  portion,  as  if  they  were  the  golden  keys  to  a 
mine  of  riches ;  and  such,  indeed,  they  seemed  to  the 
domine  for  they  guarded  his  precious  books. 

The  small  library  consisted  almost  entirely  of  works 
on  religious  topics,  principally  in  Dutch.  Cats,  Brakel, 
Sauren's  Catechism,  Van  Thuynen's  little  volume  on 
the  "  Faith  of  the  Reformed,"  Bekker's  "  World  Be- 
witched," "  The  Imitation  of  Christ,"  and  translations 
of  Newton's  Cardiphonia  and  of  Doddridge's  works, 
together  with  some  theological  treatises  in  stately  Latin 
with,  here  and  there,  an  earnest  French  polemic  and 
numerous  Calvinistic  tracts.  On  the  top  shelf,  as  rep- 
resenting an  almost  forgotten  period  in  their  owner's 
career,  the  comedies  of  Brederoo  elbowed  the  tragedies 
of  his  great  rival  Vondel  and  there  were,  besides,  some 
dark,  slender  little  books  containing  the  poems  of  the 
Engraver-poet  Jan  Luiken  and  the  songs  of  Storter — 
bold  and  simple  these  latter  in  a  breath,  bold  as  the 
times  in  which  they  were  written  and  simple  as  the 
hearts  of  the  sturdy  folk.  Nor  was  the  Dutch  Colony 
in  the  New  World  unrepresented ;  its  poets  Steendam, 
Nicasius  de  Sille,  and  that  gentle  Latinist  and  accom- 
plished scholar  Domine  Selyns,  an  early  minister  of  the 
church  of  St.  Nicholas,  found  a  place  with  the  writers 
of  the  Fatherland. 

The  domine  moved  a  trifle  impatiently  and  looked  at 
the  dandified  figure  of  the  officer  with  something  like 
intolerance  in  his  glance.  The  stranger  was  taking  a 

42 


The  Domine's  Story 

supercilious  survey  of  his  surroundings  but,  as  if  con- 
scious of  the  scrutiny  to  which  he  was  subjected,  he 
turned  his  eyes  upon  his  host.  For  a  long  minute  the 
two  men  gazed  at  each  other  unwaveringly,  as  if  match- 
ing their  relative  strength,  then  the  elder  broke  the 
silence. 

"  I  vait  your  pleasure,  Captain  Pellenten,"  he  said 
coldly.  He  had  an  odd  trick  of  protruding  his  upper 
lip  when  he  spoke,  and  his  face  at  that  moment  was 
not  prepossessing.  "  You  haf  a  message — "  his  eyes 
sought  the  open  book  before  him,  as  though  to  say  his 
time  was  precious. 

The  captain  uncrossed  his  long  legs  and  straightened 
himself  with  the  air  of  a  man  who  has  suddenly  deter- 
mined upon  action.  As  a  rule  he  was  careless  of  giv- 
ing pleasure  and  indifferent  to  giving  pain ;  it  was  a 
mere  question  of  moods  at  any  time  with  him,  though 
more  often  than  not  he  affected,  as  did  many  of  the 
men  of  fashion  at  that  period,  an  icily  impertinent  mode 
of  speech,  especially  to  those  whom  he  regarded  as  his 
social  inferiors.  It  was  not  an  age  of  reverence,  or  of 
consideration  even.  On  this  occasion,  however,  it 
suited  him  to  be  almost  deferential  to  his  companion. 

"  Tis  no  light  task  this  trust  of  mine,"  he  returned 
courteously,  "  and  I  ask  your  patience.  Faith,  I  know 
not  where  to  begin." 

"  Name  me  first  t'e  name  of  him  t'at  sent  t'e  message. 
If  t'ere  pe  a  tale,  t'en  you  haf  your  puppets  reaty  to 
hant." 

"  Gad,  'twas  no  man  but  a  woman." 

"  A  voman ! — ant  to  me  ?     So,  how  is  she  calledt  ?  " 

"  Katrina  de  Vos." 

43 


God's  Puppets 


"  Katrina — some  mistake  is  t'ere — Katrina — say  it 
once  again,  I — I — ton't  hear  fery  veil." 

The  young  man,  his  eyes  averted,  repeated  the  name 
slowly,  then  he  rose  suddenly  and  walked  to  the  win- 
dow, pausing  there  to  look  out  at  the  burgeoning  gar- 
den, but  he  only  saw  an  old  face  distorted  with  grief. 
After  a  few  moments  the  domine  spoke. 

"  Vill  you  continue,  sir  ?  " 

Bellenden  went  back  to  his  chair,  manifestly  ill  at 
ease,  the  sight  of  the  other's  composure  did  not  restore 
his  own;  he  sat  regarding  his  feet  for  some  time  in 
silence,  then,  without  any  preamble,  he  plunged  into  his 
story. 

"  I  had  not  a  long  acquaintance  with  the  lady,  for 
lady  she  was  first  and  last,  I  could  see  that  though  her 
clothes  were  mean,  and  we,  of  my  world,  oftenest  judge 
a  jewel  by  its  setting.  Some  two  years  back  I  went 
with  my  regiment  to  Barbadoes  (I  have  but  recently 
come  thence),  and  there,  shortly  after  my  arrival,  I  fell 
a  victim  to  fever  and  would  have  died  but  for  her  kind 
offices.  She  came  to  me  out  of  charity,  hearing  of  my 
illness — a  wraith  of  a  woman  with  a  slow,  sweet  smile 
to  charm  you,  and  a  low  voice  to  sing  as  a  mother  sings 
lullabies  to  a  tired  child,  and  long,  slim  hands,  that  by 
a  touch,  seemed  to  banish  the  pain  that  racked  your 
bones  and  the  fever  that  burned  you  with  the  fires  of 
hell.  'Twas  said  of  her  that  she  had  nursed  many  in 
their  need  since  her  coming  to  the  island.  I  thought 
she  belonged  to  some  religious  order,  that  she  was  a 
Beguine,  for  I  knew  by  her  speech  she  was  of  your 
country,  but  when  I  asked  her  she  said  no — she  was 
not  fit." 

44 


The  Domine's  Story 

The  domine  settled  himself  back  in  his  chair,  but  he 
made  neither  protest,  nor  comment. 

"  I  did  not  think  her  that  sort,  still  one  can  never  tell, 
a  sinner  may  look  like  a  saint ;  'tis  only  a  trick  to  learn. 
But  this  woman  was  different — there  was  no  passion 
— nothing.  She  was  a  saint.  I'd  have  staked  my  life  on 
that.  I  would  not  believe  her  testimony  against  herself 
and  I  think  she  liked  me  the  better  because  of  my  faith 
in  her.  A  strange  affection  sprang  up  betwixt  us  dur- 
ing the  slow  weeks  of  my  recovery;  she  was  like  a 
mother  to  me  and  I  was  like  a  child,  unreasonable,  gay, 
petulant,  tyrannical  and  tractable  by  turns.  I  made 
her  free  enough  of  my  past,  i'  faith,  but  hers  was  ever 
a  sealed  book  to  me,  and  when  once  I  was  able  to  re- 
sume my  duties  she  slipped  out  of  my  life  and  I  did 
not  see  her  for  months ;  then,  one  day,  a  messenger 
brought  me  word  that  she  had  need  of  me.  I  found 
her  in  a  little,  bare  room  alone,  and  near  to  death,  and 
what  I  could  do  for  her  in  the  hour  she  let  me  stay,  I 
did.  I  had  always  thought  of  her  as  of  my  mother's 
age — she  looked  so  old  and  worn,  though  she  had  the 
figure  of  a  girl,  but  she  told  me  then  that  she  was  still 
in  the  thirties — we  might  even  have  been  playfellows 
in  our  childhood.  But  she  was  old — she  had  been  old 
for  years — she  had  lived  by  heart-beats,  not  by  the  pass- 
ing hour.  She  told  me  her  story  slowly,  and  painfully, 
and  she  said  no  word  in  self-justification. 

"  Sir,  you  know  that  story  of  the  broken  home,  the 
wronged  husband,  the  deserted  child  and  the  young 
wife's  flight  with  her  lover.  There  is  no  need  for  me 
to  repeat  it  to  you.  But  what  you  do  not  know  is  this : 
That  that  woman's  life  was  one  long  penitence,  that — 

45 


God's  Puppets 


deserted  in  her  turn  by  the  man  for  whom  she  had  re- 
linquished everything1,  thrown  aside  like  a  broken  toy — 
she  suffered  grief  and  penury  and  yet  the  remembrance 
of  the  little  child  she  had  left  kept  her  from  further 
sin  and  made  her  the  angel  of  mercy  and  tenderness  I 
knew.  She  had  gone  to  Barbadoes  with  her  lover  and 
there  she  remained  after  he  forsook  her,  stumbling  back 
into  life  somehow.  Another  woman  would  have  made 
way  with  herself,  once  all  the  glamour  was  gone.  Not 
she.  Was  any  little  child  ill?  She  bent  above  it  and 
soothed  its  cries  with  her  singing,  cradling  it  in  the 
arms  that  were  bereft  of  her  own  flesh  and  blood.  No 
distance  was  too  great  for  her  to  go  to  help  some  little, 
ailing  one  and  she  never  tired  of  the  service.  Gradu- 
ally she  became  nurse  to  whoever  fell  ill — to  the  sol- 
diers especially;  she  was  unwearying  in  her  ministra- 
tions, and  so  Death  found  her. 

"  She  bade  me  give  you  no  excuses,  save  only  this. 
She  had  loved  her  betrayer  and  her  love  was  stronger 
than  her  feelings  of  duty  and  honor.  It  took  them 
both  in  its  hands  and  made  light  of  them.  It  was  too 
strong  for  her,  but  she  paid  to  the  full  for  every  moment 
of  happiness ;  it  turned  to  dead  sea  fruit  and  ashes  in 
her  grasp.  With  her  dying  breath  she  begged  me  seek 
you  out  as  soon  as  ever  I  came  to  the  Colonies  and  tell 
you  of  her  repentance.  She  did  not  ask  for  your  for- 
giveness, knowing  she  had  wronged  you  too  deeply, 
but  she  gave  me  these  pearls  that  had  once  been  her 
mother's  and  from  which  she  had  never  parted,  not 
even  when  Want  knocked  loudest  at  her  door,  because 
she  felt  that  she  held  them  in  trust  for  her  child.  She 
bade  me  bring  them  to  you  to  give  to  her  one  day  with 

46 


The  Domine's  Story 

some  word  of  the  mother  who  had  failed  her.  '  Some- 
thing tells  me,'  says  she,  '  that  my  child  is  not  dead, 
she  is  almost  grown  now,  and  a  woman's  heart  under- 
stands another  woman's ;  she  will  think  more  tolerantly 
of  me  perhaps,  she  will  pity  and  forgive  me.  For  the 
sake  of  the  love  she  might  have  given  me  had  I  stayed 
with  her,  ask  Domine  Ryerssen  to  place  this  gift  in  her 
hands.'  That  was  all.  She  kissed  the  pearls  and 
watched  me  with  a  smile  as  I  put  them  away  in  my 
breast,  then  she  signed  to  me  to  go.  And  I,  not  think- 
ing the  end  so  near,  but  seeing  how  wan  she  looked, 
obeyed  her.  She  died  that  night." 

Bellenden  rose  a  trifle  awkwardly  and  walked  over 
to  the  table.  He  had  taken  a  little,  flat  leather  case  from 
some  inner  pocket  while  he  was  speaking  and  now  he 
placed  it  within  reach  of  his  host. 

"  So  I  fulfil  my  trust,  Domine  Ryerssen,"  he  said 
slowly.  "  Will  you  do  your  part  ?  " 

The  old  man's  hands  flew  up  suddenly  to  his  face, 
hiding  it  from  the  other's  gaze. 

"  I  can't,"  he  cried  tremulously,  "  I  can't." 

The  younger  man  waited  a  moment,  tapping  his  leg 
impatiently  with  his  cane  and  studying  the  drooping 
figure  before  him. 

"  Sir,  you  must,  there  is  no  alternative ;  you  cannot 
refuse  the  dead  and  the  woman,  whatever  her  sins  were, 
repented  long  ago.  This  is  a  responsibility  you  may 
not  shirk.  If  you  will  not  do  this  thing,  if  your  the- 
ology has  so  steeped  you  in  bitterness  that  you  are 
deaf  to  the  voice  of  true  repentance,  if  you  will  nurse 
a  rancor  as  narrow  as  your  creed,  then  tell  me  where 
the  girl  is  to  be  found  and  by  heaven !  I  will  give  her 

47 


God's  Puppets 


the  pearls  myself,  if  I  have  to  go  to  the  Indies  to 
do  it." 

"  Is  it  possible  t'at  you  ton't  know  it  is  Annetje  ?  Put 
efen  now  t'e  toor  to  you  she  openedt.  I  cannot  haf  her 
tolt,  I  forpit  it — it  shall  not  pe." 

"  It  shall." 

Again  the  men  gazed  at  each  other  in  an  interval  of 
silence,  matching  each  other's  strength  unwaveringly; 
then  the  dark  eyes  fell  before  the  dim,  gray  ones. 

"  It  is  in  your  power.  Put  listen.  She  ton't  know, 
she  t'ink  her  moeder  " — the  husky  voice  trembled  with 
indescribable  softness  over  the  word — "  is  tie,  oh !  so 
long  time  ago— so  many  years.  I  vill  not  haf  her  tolt. 
I  vill  not  say  to  her  myself  '  your  moeder,  she  is  un- 
vort'y — '  I  vill  not  haf  her  soul  t'at  is  like  some  pure 
v'ite  flower,  whose  name  I  ton't  know,  contaminatet  vis 
sin.  I  push  sin  from  her  vis  my  two  hants.  She  is 
so  tear  to  me,  put  she  ton't  know  t'at  eit'er — I  can't  tell 
her,  only  I  feel  it  here."  He  stopped  a  minute,  press- 
ing his  hand  to  his  heart. 

"  Psha,  she  must  know  about  her  mother,  man.  Here 
in  your  study  you  have  not  heard  the  gossip,  the  world 
is  not  so  kind  as  you  think,"  the  captain  broke  off  with 
an  uneasy  laugh.  "  Faith,  you  do  strange  things  in 
this  country,  still  I  thought  scandal  was  a  plant  that 
throve  everywhere." 

"  You  are  right.  Like  t'e  pay-tree  of  t'e  Scriptures 
it  flourisheth,  put  my  Annetje  she  ton't  know.  Yes,  I 
vill  tell  you — you  a  stranger — pecause  of  t'at  one  whose 
vorts  you  pring.  Sit  again.  So!  I  am  an  olt  man, 
sir,  ant  t'ese  many  years  haf  I  hat  acquaintance  vis 
grief.  Ven  I  vas  a  poy  at  school  in  Fat'erlant  t'ere  vas 

48 


The  Domine's  Story 

a  poy  t'at  my  heart  vent  out  to,  efen  as  Tafit's  heart 
vent  out  to  Jonathan's,  ant  I  lofedt  him  ant  his  heart 
vas  to  me  pount  likevise.  Not'ing  is  efer  come  pe- 
tween  our  f rientship ;  to  t'e  ent  it  lasts.  So  it  vas  t'at, 
ven  he  is  apout  to  tie,  he  sent  me  vort  vouldt  I  look 
after  his  taughter  for  his  sake?  He  t'ink  it  vouldt  pe 
goot  ven  I  marry  her — my  home  is  lonely,  he  know. 
Veil  t'en,  nefer  hat  I  t'ought  of  t'at  marrying  for  me, 
I  hat  my  pooks  ant  t'ey  vere  enough.  Put  my  frient's 
little  girl  is  alone  in  t'e  vorlt,  ant  I  write  her  to  come 
to  me,  I  vant  to  marry  her  as  her  fat'er  hat  sait.  So 
she  is  come.  You  know  vat  t'at  lofe  is  like,  sir,  per- 
haps— nefer  hat  I  known  it — ant  I  vas  more  fan  fifty 
years  of  age  t'at  time.  Put  it  is  come  vis  t'e  little  mait 
from  ofer  t'e  sea.  My  gart'ner  say  to  me  one  tay, 
'  Domine,  t'ere  is  one  little  flower  (I  haf  forgot  how 
he  calledt  it!)  t'at  nefer  appears  till  summer  is  gone 
ant  frost  is  in  t'e  lant,  t'en  it  vakes,  pringing  peauty 
ant  glatness.'  My  heart,  sir,  vas  like  t'at — t'ere  vas  a 
late  flower,  only  one." 

The  domine  was  silent  a  moment. 

"If  she  hat  tolt  me  t'e  trut' !  If  she  hat  sait  '  I  can- 
not marry  you,  alreaty  I  lofe  some  ot'er  one,'  I  vouldt 
haf  let  t'e  little  flower  tie  in  my  heart  ant  gone  pack 
to  my  stuties  again.  Put  she  keep  t'at  from  me,  she 
tells  me  not'ing.  So  ve  are  marriedt,  ant  t'ere  is  such 
sunshine  in  my  house  ant  in  t'e  vorlt — nefer  so  much 
pefore,  I  t'ink.  I  am  olt  ant  ugly — I  fint  t'at  out  at 
t'at  time — put  I  lofe  her,  only  I  can't  speak  of  it — it  is 
as  holy  as  Kott!  I  know  t'e  church  peoples  smile  to 
see  me  vis  so  young  a  vife,  t'ey  ton't  know  how  much 
I  care — how  s'ouldt  t'ey?  Veil,  perhaps  she  isn't 

49 


God's  Puppets 


happy — she  ton't  say  much,  put  she  smiles  slow  ant 
sweet  ant  I  t'ink  she  is  pleasedt.  T'en,  v'en  two  years 
are  gone,  t'e  kleintje  comes  ant  I  tremple  vis  joy.  I  am 
afrait  to  speak — to  mofe!  Sometimes,  I  creep  to  t'e 
room  ant  vatch  t'e  two  together  t'rough  t'e  toor,  ant 
nefer  is  t'e  voman  so  tear  as  v'en  she  sits  t'ere  singing 
to  t'e  little  one.  You  likedt  her  voice  ?  Put  I  listenedt 
to  it  vis  my  heart,  ant  t'e  angels  vill  not  sing  petter." 

He  stopped  again  and  glanced  about  wearily;  the 
man  before  him  sat  with  lowered  eyes  and  an  impassive 
face  that  seemed  cut  out  of  stone,  but  he  lost  no 
word  of  the  simple  story  for  all  his  seeming  indiffer- 
ence. 

"  T'en  one  tay,  v'en  Annetje  is  maype  a  year  olt,  I 
come  home.  It  is  in  t'e  spring  ant  sickness  ant  sorrow 
are  in  t'e  lant,  only  not  in  my  house,  t'ank  Kott !  I  go 
to  fint  moeder  ant  chilt,  and  Heilke  has  t'e  kleintje  in  t'e 
kitchen,  t'e  moeder,  she  say,  is  gone  out  to  t'e  country 
to  see  a  sick  frient.  I  go  to  my  stuty  t'en  to  prepare  my 
sermon  ant  t'ere  I  fint  a  letter  ant  it  say — t'e  trut' — t'at 
is  all — t'e  trut'  !  She  is  going  avay — she  ton't  efer  lofe 
me,  put  alvays  t'at  ot'er  one  she  hat  known  since  chilt- 
hoot  in  Fat'erlant — he  is  young,  he  is  gay,  he  is  v'at  I 
am  not.  She  lofes  t'e  chilt,  put  she  can't  stay,  he  is 
going  to  sail  t'at  tay  to  a  far  country  ant  she  vill  go 
vis  him.  It  is  all  arrangedt. 

"  Veil,  sir,  t'is  is  most  t'e  ent ;  it  grow  tark  all  at  once. 
I  cannot  vork.  Py  ant  py  Heilke  comes  ant  she  say 
'  v'ere  is  Mrs.  Ryerssen  ?  t'e  chilt  cry  for  her  moeder.' 
Ant  I  say  all  in  a  flash,  t'at  Mrs.  Ryerssen  comes  not 
home  t'at  night  ant  maype  not  t'e  next  tay — her  frient 
is  so  fery  sick — she  haf  left  me  vort.  So  Heilke  goes 

50 


The  Domine's  Story 

avay  ant  I  hear  her  singing  to  t'e  little  one  ant  it  is  so 
tifferent — m'y'n  God! — so  tifferent.  Put  I  must  pe 
pusy,  vis  teath  ant  sorrow  eferyv'ere  t'e  peoples  neet 
me.  T'ey  ton't  look  at  me  queer,  ant  I  say  to  myself 
t'ey  ton't  know.  In  t'eir  preoccupation  t'ey  haf  not 
seen  anyt'ing  not  right.  T'at  young  man  he  is  put 
shortly  come  to  t'is  country,  a  veek — two  maype — ant 
t'ere  is  t'e  fefer  here,  as  I  haf  sait — t'ey  to  not  heet  him. 
Sir,  I  am  a  prout  man,  I  couldt  not  haf  t'em  know  my 
home  is  tisgracedt — I  couldt  not  haf  t'em  sneer  at  her 
t'at  is  t'e  moeder  of  my  chilt.  Ant  all  tay,  ant  all  night, 
I  ask  myself  '  how  long  pefore  t'ey  hear — how  long? ' 
Ant  eferyv'ere  I  see  t'em  pointing  t'e  finger  at  me  ant 
crying  '  Shame ! '  to  her.  I  vill  not  haf  it — I  am  t'e 
one  to  plame — I  shouldt  haf  guartet  her  petter.  How 
can  t'e  veak  rise  if  t'ey  t'at  lofe  t'em,  ant  are  strong, 
help  t'em  not?"  His  voice  broke,  after  a  minute  he 
went  on. 

"  I  hat  failedt  her,  efen  v'en  I  lofedt  her  most  ant 
she  vas  gone,  put  she  hat  left  her  name  vis  me  ant  I 
tell  myself  t'at,  at  least,  shall  pe  pure — I  ton't  know 
how — only  it  shall  pe  pure !  T'en  all  at  once  it  is  easy 
to  me,  it  is  easy,  ant  it  is  hart  at  t'e  same  time.  All 
my  life  I  hat  lofedt  Trut'  ant  followedt  her,  now  to 
t'e  pranching  of  t'e  vays  I  hat  come.  Ant  along  one — 
like  a  star — Trut'  shone,  ant  along  t'e  ot'er  vas  a  little 
glimmer  in  t'e  dusk  v'ere  Falsehoot  crept.  Ant  it  spoke 
low  to  my  ear,  it  tolt  me  how  my  vife's  name  is  kept 
v'ite — how  my  chilt  vill  haf  a  peautiful  memory  of  her 
moeder.  Veil,  I  consiter — I  consiter.  So  t'e  time 
goes,  ant  alvays  to  Heilke  I  make  excuse,  her  mistress 
cannot  come,  her  mistress  is  sick  ant  finally  one  tay  I 


God's  Puppets 


say :  '  Mrs.  Ryerssen  comes  nefer  any  more — she  is 
teadt.'  Heilke  cries  ant  cries,  put  my  eyes  holt  no 
tears.  Ten  I  tell  t'e  same  to  Jan  Praa " 

"WhoisJanPraa?" 

"  He  is  my  voorleezer,  t'at  is  he  tunes  t'e  Psalms  ant 
turns  t'e  hour-klass  on  t'e  pulpit  v'en  I  preach,  he  is 
also  pell-ringer  ant  sexton  ant  it  is  he  t'at  has  charge 
of  my  garten — he  is  vis  me  many  years.  He  is  a  goot 
man  ant  tiscretious.  '  She  is  teadt  ? '  he  says  slow. 
'  Yes,'  I  answer,  '  she  is  teadt  to  us  all.'  '  She  is  teadt 
from  t'e  plague/  he  says  again.  So  he  leafes  me  ant  I 
creep  pack  here  ant  close  t'e  toor.  T'en  it  is  t'at  my 
church  peoples  hear  t'e  news — not  t'e  true  news  you 
unterstant,  put  v'at  t'ey  t'ink  is  true — ant  some  say  my 
vife  is  tie  from  t'e  small-pox,  t'ere  is  so  much  of  it 
eferyv'ere,  ant  I  ton't  contratict  t'em.  Ant  t'ey  praise 
me,  v'ich  is  hart  to  pear — pecause  I  stait  vis  t'em  in 
t'eir  sorrow,  v'ile  my  vife  vas  sick  among  strangers. 
T'ey  can  nefer  forget,  t'ey  say.  Oh !  it  is  a  goot  peo- 
ples— my  congregation — ant  I  haf  teceifedt  t'em,  put 
I  couldt  to  no  ot'ervise,  I  vouldt  haf  t'em  t'ink  no  harm 
of  her. 

"  Veil,  t'ey  peliefedt  she  vas  really  teadt  ant  t'ey  haf 
put  up  a  taplet,  now  t'ese  many  years,  in  t'e  church  vis 
her  name  engrafedt  upon  it  ant  t'e  vort  '  Gcdachtcnis ' 
— as  you  vouldt  say,  '  in  rememprance.'  And  t'ere,  efer 
since  my  Annetje  is  eight  years  olt,  half  peen  placedt 
flowers  in  t'eir  season  py  her  hants.  Jan  ant  Heilke 
haf  tolt  her  of  her  moeder  ant  she  lofes  her;  to  her 
mindt  t'at  moeder  is  young  alvays,  ant  peautiful,  ant 
pure — I  cannot  unterceife  her." 

'  'Twould  not  be  necessary,  the  child  would  think 
52 


The  Domine's  Story 

you  had  kept  the  gift  in  trust  till  she  had  reached  a 
fitting  age  to  receive  it." 

"  Ah ! — so — t'at  is  goot.  Young  vits  are  petter  t'an 
olt  ones ;  I  vill  gif  her  t'e  pearls  one  tay." 

"  And,  moreover,  I  tell  you  the  woman  died  repent- 
ant, her  later  life  was  that  of  a  saint's  for  purity." 

"  Let  Him  jutge,  I  cannot — I  am  only  a  proken- 
heartedt  man — put  t'e  chilt  neet  nefer  know.  I  haf  your 
vort,  sir?  " 

Bellenden  rose  and  approached  the  table  again  with 
outstretched  hand. 

"  The  word  of  a  soldier  and  a  gentleman." 

"  Goot,  I  haf  no  fear.  Yet  to  you,  as  to  no  one  put 
my  Maker,  haf  I  shown  my  heart,  its  shames,  its  te- 
ceits,  its  lofes.  I  haf  taken  town  all  parriers,  I  am 
tefenceless.  One  vort  from  you  vouldt  proclaim  me, 
ant  my  life  t'at  men  teem  holy,  a  lifing  lie — a  v'itedt 
sepulchre — put  I  trust  you  completely."  As  he  fin- 
ished speaking  he  left  his  place  and  came  slowly  to  the 
captain's  side.  Both  men  clasped  hands  in  silence.  It 
was  the  solemn  ratification  of  a  vow  given  and  taken ; 
then  their  hands  fell  apart.  The  domine  stepped  back 
and  looked  up  at  his  guest. 

"  T'e  roats  of  our  life  may  nefer  cross  after  t'is  tay, 
unless  it  vouldt  pe  your  kintness  to  come  here  again. 
Put  if  t'at  is  impossiple,  rememper  t'e  olt  man  stants 
reaty  to  help  you  in  your  neet  as  she  helpedt  you. 
Great  pain  haf  I  known  t'is  tay,  put  a  great  comfort 
also.  A  secret  is  a  heafy  loat  to  carry,  see!  alreaty 
haf  you  mate  my  purten  lighter.  Ve  can't  any  of  us 
meet  ant  part  in  t'is  life,  ant  remain  just  t'e  same — ve 
color  unconsciously  each  ot'er's  existence.  Ant  you 

53 


God's  Puppets 


stant  fery  near  me  forefer.     I  souldt  like  it  much  if 
you  vouldt  come  again." 

Bellenden  hesitated.  He  might  promise,  that  was 
easy  enough,  and  then  forget — that  surely  was  easier. 
There  were  too  many  claims  on  a  man's  time,  if  he 
were  a  man  of  fashion,  to  make  it  possible  for  him  to 
spend  an  hour  or  so  in  this  room  when  no  sacred  duty 
called  him  thither.  The  trust  which  had  held  him 
faithful  in  the  midst  of  frivolities  had  been  executed 
and  he  was  free  henceforth  to  do  as  he  pleased.  What 
pleased  him  most  lay  in  the  world  without,  and  not  in 
this  dull  place  where  laughter  and  merriment  never 
came.  Yet  the  spectacle  of  that  other's  naked  soul 
stirred  him  strangely  and,  in  some  unaccountable  way, 
made  him  conscious  that  the  secret  he  shared  was  like 
a  chain  which  bound  him,  if  lightly,  still  inextricably, 
to  the  old  minister.  The  responsibilities  which  are 
thrust  upon  us  without  the  asking  are  none  the  less  re- 
sponsibilities. Something  in  the  domine's  attitude 
toward  life  thrilled  him  unspeakably.  Unmartial  in 
appearance,  little,  broken-hearted,  old  and  worn  the 
man  had  waged  his  battle  single-handed,  and  the 
younger  soldier  stood  ready  to  salute  the  courage  of  the 
elder.  He  would,  at  least,  say  he  would  come  again. 

And  then,  because  good  and  evil  lie  in  close  juxta- 
position in  the  human  breast,  there  rose  suddenly  be- 
fore Jack  Bellenden  the  vision  of  a  half-open  Dutch 
door  and  set  against  the  dark  wood  of  the  upper  por- 
tion the  flowerlike  beauty  of  a  girl's  face.  He  glanced 
down  at  the  old  man  and  smiled.  This  time  he  knew 
his  promise  would  be  kept. 

"  Yes,  I  will  come  again." 
54 


A  FRIEND  OF  THE  FAMILY 

There  were  two  ways  of  entering  Annetje's  garden. 
The  path  from  the  street  that  led  up  to  the  front  door 
and,  there  diverging,  crept  around  the  house  past  the 
kitchen,  in  whose  spotless  depths  Heilke — grim  as  Cere- 
bus — kept  guard,  and  so  on  to  the  garden  where  it  was 
lost  among  the  broader  walks ;  and  the  other,  in  the  far- 
away corner  below  the  apple  orchard,  a  little  grass- 
grown  track  which,  for  reasons  best  known  to  himself, 
Jan  had  left  unweeded  for  years.  He  never  used  it, 
though  often  it  would  have  been  more  convenient  for 
him  and  would  have  saved  him  many  a  rating  from 
Heilke's  sharp  tongue  as  he  trudged  by  her  windows 
to  his  work.  The  distant  gate  gave  upon  an  unfre- 
quented lane,  and  anyone  passing  through  it  could 
enter,  or  leave,  the  garden  without  the  knowledge  of  the 
inhabitants  of  the  sleepy,  old  parsonage  embowered 
among  trees  and  bushes. 

It  had  not  taken  Captain  Bellenden  long  to  perceive 
this  mode  of  entrance  and  to  determine  to  enlist  it  into 
his  service  if  chance  should  offer;  for  a  dash  of  in- 
trigue, to  the  men  of  his  time,  always  lent  an  additional 
charm  to  their  affairs  of  gallantry.  His  second  visit 
to  Domine  Ryerssen  opened  drearily  enough.  He  had 
been  admitted  by  Heilke  and  shown  immediately  to  the 

55 


God's  Puppets 


study,  but  along  the  way  there  had  been  no  faintest 
glimpse  of  a  girl's  face — the  house  fairly  reeked  of  age 
— then  the  door  had  closed  upon  the  servant  and  the 
interview  began. 

There  was  a  little  stiff,  formal  talk  on  either  side 
which  the  younger  man  tried  to  carry  off  lightly,  though 
he  soon  discovered  that  his  host  was  scarcely  attending 
to  his  impressions  of  York  colony.  The  colony  meant 
nothing  to  Cornelis  Ryerssen  who  was  in  no  sense  pub- 
lic-spirited, and  neither  cared  for,  nor  noticed,  the  im- 
provements that  had  taken  place  during  his  stay  in  the 
busy  harbor  town.  The  time  that  was  not  spent  in  the 
pursuit  of  his  parochial  duties  he  lived  to  himself,  keep- 
ing aloof  from  the  happenings  of  the  day.  He  seldom 
if  ever  discussed  colonial,  or  political,  situations;  it 
mattered  little  to  him  whether  affairs  at  the  Fort  ran 
smoothly,  or  otherwise.  Governors  might  come,  and 
governors  might  go,  there  might  be  wars  and  rumors 
of  wars  all  about  him,  but  they  concerned  him  not  at 
all.  The  only  thing  he  desired  passionately  was  the 
welfare  of  his  church.  If  he  could  make  up  to  his 
people  by  strenuous,  loving  service  for  the  faith  they 
had  placed  in  him,  he  asked  nothing  else — and  nothing 
better — of  life. 

With  this  end  in  view  he  toiled  early  and  late,  throw- 
ing his  whole  heart  into  the  composition  of  his  tediously 
dull  sermons  and  giving  the  best  in  his  power  for  the 
spiritual  advancement  of  his  little  flock.  Some  of  the 
older  members  of  his  congregation,  with  the  marked 
conservatism  of  their  race,  regarded  him  with  a  good- 
natured  tolerance  that  bordered  on  affection ;  but  the 
younger  ones,  who  were  beginning  to  feel  the  slow 

56 


A  Friend  of  the  Family 

blood  quicken  in  their  veins  in  response  to  the  rising 
stress  of  the  world  without,  listened  almost  impatiently 
to  his  exordiums  finding  him,  as  Captain  Bellenden 
found  him  on  this  occasion,  devoid  of  all  interest. 

The  domine,  however  much  he  lacked  the  grace  to 
show  his  pleasure  at  the  English  officer's  coming,  was 
heartily  glad  to  welcome  him  again,  though  aside  from 
the  friendly  grasped  hand  and  the  half  awkward  prof- 
fer of  his  snuff-box  he  could  do  nothing  to  indicate  his 
feelings.  Shyness  and  shame  possessed  him  to  a 
marked  degree;  the  shyness  which  was  a  part  of  his 
nature  and  which  always  hampered  his  slow  speech, 
and  shame  at  the  remembrance  that  he  had  drawn  away 
the  covering  from  his  wound  and  had  exposed  the  fes- 
tering sore  at  his  heart  of  life  to  another's  view.  Yet, 
at  the  same  time,  in  the  presence  of  this  man  whom  ear- 
lier, in  his  intolerance,  he  would  have  stigmatized  as  a 
fop,  he  felt  an  overwhelming  sense  of  relief.  Here  he 
was  known  for  what  he  was  and  the  mere  fact  that  the 
Englishman  had  come  again — and  so  soon — was  in  part 
proof  that  he  did  not  despise  him  for  the  deceit  he  had 
practised.  He,  who  had  been  debarred  from  the 
sympathy  of  man,  woman  and  child  for  so  long,  thrilled 
a  little  at  the  thought  of  what  was  comprised  in  Bellen- 
den's  attitude  toward  him.  Pity  in  part — but  he  did 
not  revolt  from  pity — and  comprehension.  He  was 
very  grateful  inwardly  and  the  captain  would  have  been 
flattered  had  he  been  able  to  read  the  thoughts  that  were 
passing  beneath  that  quiet  exterior,  but,  such  power  be- 
ing denied  him,  the  young  man  cursed  himself  for  a 
fool  for  having  walked  a  second  time,  and  that  with 
wide  open  eyes,  into  so  stupid  a  trap. 

57 


God's  Puppets 


The  talk  dragged  wearily,  intermittently  on,  each 
man  conscious  of  the  growing  barrier  between  them. 
They  might  have  been  on  mist-enwrapped  islands 
shouting  vainly  to  each  other,  their  voices  dropping 
sadly  into  the  void  between,  for  all  the  understanding 
their  speech  evoked.  They,  who  for  a  moment  had  felt 
the  nearness  of  their  souls,  as  is  often  the  case,  had 
drifted  so  far  asunder  as  to  be  beyond  any  reach.  And 
then,  suddenly,  to  bridge  the  distance  and  bring  them 
into  touch  again,  a  girl's  voice  singing  clearly  came  to 
them  from  the  garden. 

The  domine  paused  in  his  halting  sentence,  happiness 
flickering  up  through  the  pallor  of  his  face ;  and  again 
the  visitor  had  a  revelation  of  the  other's  inmost  be- 
ing. It  was  like  seeing  into  a  shrine  whose  purity  was 
dazzling.  Even  his  careless  nature  was  stirred  as  if  an 
unseen  hand  had  swept  the  strings  and  had  brought 
forth  some  antiphonal  note.  In  that  moment,  if  he  had 
followed  his  better  inclination,  he  would  have  taken 
himself  out  of  the  little  room  and  away  from  the  sim- 
ple home  forever.  Some  such  thought  touched  him, 
but  he  let  it  go  quickly. 

"  Your  daughter  ?  "  he  said  tentatively. 

"My  Annetje,my  little  v'ite  tofe !  Among  her  flowers 
she  sings.  Some  tay,  not  yet,  I  gif  her  v'at  you  pring." 

"  I  should  like  to  see  her  garden." 

"  So !  You  take  an  inter-est  in  flowers  ?  T'at  is  veil. 
For  myself,  I  am  an  ignorant  concerning  t'em,  ant  yet 
ve  are  tolt  to  consiter  how  t'ey  grow  visout  t'ought,  or 
care.  It  is  no  easy  lesson  for  man  to  learn.  Vill  you 
come,  sir?" 

Together  they  stepped  through  the  open  window,  the 
58 


A  Friend  of  the  Family 

captain  following  his  host  a  trifle  shamefacedly.  At 
the  sound  of  their  approaching  steps  the  girl  turned 
and,  for  a  moment,  it  seemed  as  if  she  were  about  to 
run ;  there  was  something  half  of  fear,  half  of  dismay, 
in  her  attitude ;  then  her  glance,  shy  as  a  bird's,  sought 
Bellenden's  face.  She  had  no  thought  to  give  to  the 
small,  bent  figure  in  rusty  black  in  front  of  him,  she  did 
not  even  see  it ;  she  only  saw  that  other  coming  toward 
her,  erect  and  manly  in  bearing,  his  beaver  beneath  his 
arm,  his  head  bared  to  the  sun  and  the  warmth  of  his 
smile  engulfing  her.  Then  her  heart  followed  her  eyes. 

She  was  slower  herself  in  complying  with  her  father's 
command  and  advanced  to  meet  his  guest,  as  timidly 
as  if  she  were  a  little  child  adventuring  into  the  pres- 
ence of  some  giant.  As  she  sank  before  him  in  an  awk- 
ward curtsey  her  distress  and,  at  the  same  time,  her 
delight  were  very  evident  to  the  young  man's  practised 
eye.  The  soft  wild-rose  tinge  that  suffused  her  cheeks 
and  throat  spoke  more  loudly  than  she  was  aware,  but 
aside  from  the  faintest  greeting  she  had  no  word  for 
him. 

Bellenden's  eloquence,  however,  was  something  to 
make  gods  and  mortals  stare.  The  stone,  that  in  the 
domine's  study  had  so  effectually  barred  his  conversa- 
tional powers,  had  been  miraculously  rolled  away,  and 
he  found  himself  talking  with  fluent  ease  to  the  father 
and  daughter  on  such  subjects  as  he  felt  were  not  re- 
mote from  their  interest.  He  was  absolutely  impar- 
tial in  his  attentions,  save  for  the  occasional  putting-by 
of  vine,  or  shrub,  from  the  girl's  path  and  she,  to  whom 
this  bewildering  mixture  of  deference  and  admiration 
possessed  all  the  charm  of  a  novelty  that  set  her  pulses 

59 


God's  Puppets 


rioting,  and  not  yet  mistress  of  herself,  thanked  him 
shyly  with  her  glance. 

It  was  an  extensive  garden,  but  only  the  earlier  flow- 
ers were  in  bloom,  though  everywhere  there  was  prom- 
ise of  beauty  and  abundance  in  the  summer  whose  fore- 
runner had  come,  sweet-scented  and  light  of  foot,  sing- 
ing into  the  land.  Its  present  parsimony,  however, 
could  not  be  eked  out  into  any  great  show  of  wealth  and 
Bellenden  knew  he  had  no  reasonable  excuse  to  linger 
with  his  platitudes,  despite  the  fact  that  it  was  a  pleasant 
spot  wherein  to  loiter  indefinitely  with  one  of  his  com- 
panions at  least.  He  had  extolled  Dutch  gardening 
with  the  fervor  of  a  proselyte,  not  once,  but  many 
times,  had  pointed  out  the  difference  between  the  trim, 
stiff  beds  and  the  models  of  English  taste,  awarding  the 
palm  to  the  former  with  flattering  candor;  he  had 
claimed  an  intimate  acquaintance  with  the  tulips  of 
Holland  and,  in  almost  the  same  breath,  when  brought 
face  to  face  with  a  mass  of  their  blossoms,  lying  like 
some  still  sea  of  color  held  in  bounds  by  edgings  of 
pungent  green,  he  had  demanded  their  name  with 
childish  simplicity. 

If  the  domine,  who  was  the  most  unsuspicious  of 
men,  did  not  discover  his  guest's  ignorance  and  du- 
plicity, Jack  Bellenden  made  a  not  unpleasing  discovery 
for  himself.  To  wit :  that  when  Annetje  smiled  a  little 
dimple,  the  size  of  a  small  hazel-nut,  played  at  hide  and 
seek  in  the  soft  roundness  of  the  cheek  nearest  him. 
But  her  eyes  were  persistently  lowered,  and  what  lurked 
beneath  their  satin-white  lids  he  could  not  guess;  his 
curiosity  was  piqued.  For  the  moment  all  thoughts  of 
departure  were  summarily  dismissed. 

60 


A  Friend  of  the  Family 

The  day  was  almost  done.  The  sunshine  was  grow- 
ing fainter ;  it  seemed  woven  half  of  glittering  threads 
of  light,  and  half  of  green  caught  from  the  new  leaves 
of  trees  and  vines  that  hung  delicate  and  feathery 
against  the  pale  blue  sky.  The  breeze  had  fallen  in 
this  hour  before  sundown  and  the  air  was  full  of  the 
silver  pipings  of  frogs  in  near-by  pools  and  every  now 
and  again  the  bass  boom  of  a  bull-frog  added  a  martial 
sound  to  the  unceasing  chorus.  From  a  distance  came 
the  merry  note  of  a  bobolink,  that  happiest  bird  of  the 
spring-time,  and  closer  at  hand  some  sparrows,  chat- 
tering in  the  tulip-tree  over  the  last  important  happen- 
ings of  the  day,  made  ready  for  the  night. 

The  little  party  of  three  had  reached  the  end  of  the 
garden-walk ;  below  them  the  land  dipped  a  trifle  and 
as  they  stood  on  a  slight  eminence  they  could  see, 
through  the  lightly  veiled  shrubbery,  the  high  wall  that 
girt  it  round  and  the  gate  that  led  out  to  the  unfre- 
quented lane. 

"  Do  I  leave  you  here  ?  "  Bellenden  asked. 

"  No,"  Annetje  breathed. 

"  No,"  the  domine  answered.  "  Nefer  usedt  is  t'at 
gate — I  t'ink  it  nefer  has  peen  usedt  in  my  tay;  vis 
veets  is  it  grown  ofer.  Is  not  t'at  so,  kleintje?  " 

Annetje  murmured  something:  she  had  not  opened 
it  for  years  and  years,  not  since  she  was  a  child. 

"  Oh !  ho,  you  openedt  it  t'en  ?  Put  v'ere  vas  I  ? 
Ofer  my  pooks,  eh  ?  Fery  like — fery  like." 

The  father  smiled  indulgently  at  the  belated  con- 
fession, the  deception  mattered  nothing  to  him.  As  he 
had  bent  above  his  books,  he  had  not  heard  the  clang 
of  the  gate  when  the  little  fingers  had  let  it  slip  to 

61 


God's  Puppets 


gently ;  he  had  not  heard  it  grate  on  its  hinges  in  those 
other  days  when  it  had  been  opened  and  closed  by  older 
hands.  Yet  the  years  held  both  memories,  guilty  and 
innocent  figures  met  and  clasped  for  a  moment.  Bell- 
enden  regarded  the  wicket  intently  as  his  companions 
spoke,  he  should  not  err  in  finding  it  again,  if  ever  the 
occasion  offered — that  disused  stretch  of  land  beyond 
the  old  wall,  and  the  gate  standing  there  near  the  black 
trunk  of  a  lightning-riven  tree  were  unforgettable.  He 
turned  with  the  others  and  retraced  his  steps. 

When  next  he  sought  the  parsonage  he  had  a  brief, 
and  not  altogether  enjoyable,  interview  with  the  domine 
alone,  which  was  succeeded  by  one  even  more  dreary, 
if  that  were  possible.  Another  time  the  domine  was 
abroad  and  when  Bellenden,  very  timidly  because  of 
Heilke's  chill  demeanor,  inquired  for  his  friend's 
daughter,  the  keeper  of  the  keys,  as  if  stricken  suddenly 
deaf  and  dumb,  banged  the  door  resolutely  to  and  locked 
it  with  dire  significance.  A  similar  result  coming  soon 
thereafter  fanned  his  feelings  into  a  quicker  flame.  He 
was  one  of  those  men  whom  opposition,  even  if  it  were 
but  the  blind  intervention  of  inanimate  things,  rendered 
absolutely  intolerant.  He  would  brook  no  opposition. 
He  meant  no  harm.  If  he  had  seen  Annetje  every  time 
he  visited  her  father,  the  chances  are  he  would  have 
tired  of  her  quickly  enough.  But  not  to  see  her — to 
go  to  the  dull,  old  place,  knowing  that  somewhere  with- 
in its  four  walls,  or  in  the  garden  without,  there  was 
beauty  to  quicken  a  man's  pulse  and  make  him  forget 
the  world — was  like  the  spark  to  tow.  He  simply  would 
override  circumstances. 

.    He  saw  her  again,  and  in  her  father's  study.     She 

62 


A  Friend  of  the  Family 

came  into  the  room  bearing  a  tray,  on  which  were 
two  high  drinking-glasses  painted  in  bright  colors,  a 
pitcher  of  hot  water,  a  slender,  fluted  glass-bottle  con- 
taining arrack  and  a  silver  bite-and-stir  box,  holding 
in  its  shell-like  divisions  the  different  kinds  of  sugar. 
He  did  not  know  that  she  had  just  routed  Heilke  in 
the  kitchen  and  it  was  only  owing  to  her  dexterity  and 
subtlety  that  an  old  and  ugly  Hebe  was  not  attending 
to  his  wants.  Heilke,  at  that  very  moment,  was  in  the 
depths  of  her  vast  store-closet  whither  she  had  gone 
to  get  some  little  seed-cakes  to  supplement  the  punch 
and  where  she  must  remain  until  her  more  skilled  ad- 
versary should  turn  the  key  again  and  set  her  free.  As 
it  was,  he  attributed  the  glitter  of  victory  in  the  girl's 
eyes  and  the  heightened  color  in  her  cheeks  to  the  fact 
that  she  was  seeing  him  again.  The  thought  tickled 
his  complacency. 

The  old  minister  sweetened  his  drink  to  his  liking, 
but  the  younger  man  left  his  cup-bearer  to  serve  him, 
watching  her  face,  through  the  steam  of  the  water,  grow 
rosier  under  his  regard.  As  she  stood  before  him  and 
the  domine  clattered  his  spoon  in  his  glass,  there  came 
a  knock  at  the  door  and  Jan  Praa  appeared  on  the 
threshold  intent  upon  some  errand.  Domine  Ryerssen 
set  down  his  punch  reluctantly  and  crossed  the  room  to 
speak  to  him. 

"No  more  sugar; faith, it  needed  no  sweetening  when 
once  you'd  glanced  therein,"  Bellenden  whispered 
hastily.  "  We've  a  song  writ  by  a  rare,  old  fellow  and 
two  lines  go  this  way :  '  Or  leave  a  kiss  but  in  the  cup, 
and  I'll  not  look  for  wine/  Not  I.  I'd  seek  the  kiss 
instead." 

63 


God's  Puppets 


The  girl  kept  her  eyes  on  the  floor,  though  her  dimple 
showed  she  had  heard  him  and  was  not  displeased. 

"  I  have  been  here  several  times  and  until  to-day  not 
a  glimpse  have  I  caught  of  you.  Is  it  to  be  always  so  ? 
That  ugly,  old  woman  will  have  it  you're  not  at  home 
— she's  small  liking  for  me  and  I've  done  her  no  ill. 
May  I  not  come  by  the  little  gate  down  there  and  trouble 
no  one  to  let  me  in  ?  " 

The  girl  trembled,  but  still  she  maintained  the  same 
silence. 

"  It's  easy  finding  it  and  the  afternoons  are  long 
when  one  is  alone — very  long.  Tell  me  that  I  may 
come." 

"  How  s'ouldt  I  know  ?  "  she  murmured  swiftly.  She 
hardly  moved  her  lips,  he  had  to  bend  his  head  close  to 
catch  the  words. 

"  How  ?  Listen.  Was  that  a  bird,  mistress  An- 
netje?" 

She  gave  a  low  laugh  and  cast  a  quick,  frightened 
glance  over  her  shoulder.  The  two  men  at  the  door 
were  deeply  engrossed,  the  one  in  giving,  the  other  in 
receiving  some  order ;  they  did  not  heed  the  soft  suc- 
cession of  rippling  notes  near  at  hand. 

"  A  bird  was  it,  child  ?  Some  might  think  it  so,  but 
you  and  I  know  different." 


64 


VI 

MOTHER  AND  DAUGHTER 

"  You  sent  for  me,  madam  ?  " 

At  her  daughter's  entrance  Mrs.  Crewe  glanced  up 
from  her  writing-table ;  she  looked  old  and  jaded  in  the 
pitiless  sunshine  which  streamed  into  the  little  blue  and 
gold  leather  closet,  where  it  was  her  custom  to  sit  before 
dinner  busying  herself  with  her  accounts.  It  being 
still  early  morning  she  had  not  put  on  her  red,  and  her 
face,  in  comparison  with  the  freshness  of  the  young 
beauty  before  her,  showed  sallow  and  lined,  nor  had  she 
apparently  devoted  either  much  time  or  care  to  her 
dress.  She  was  one  of  those  women  who  consider  that 
anything,  no  matter  how  shabby,  will  do  for  the  privacy 
of  the  family  circle  and  in  consequence  her  mob-cap 
was  draggled  and  grimy  furnishing  a  fit  accompaniment 
to  her  tumbled  chintz  wrapper.  She  did  not  speak  for 
the  space  of  a  minute,  but  continued  scribbling  on  some 
cards;  when  that  was  done  she  threw  sand  on  the 
writing  from  her  caster,  shaking  it  with  a  vehement 
hand. 

"  I  am  forced  to  be  my  own  secretary,"  she  said  with 
temper. 

"  La,  mamma,  is  the  poor  man  indisposed  ?  " 

"  The  third  secretary  I  have  had  since  Michaelmas," 
Mrs.  Crewe  went  on  fretfully,  "and  such  a  nice-spoken, 
gentlemanly  man  and  well-connected  too — he  made  an 

65 


God's  Puppets 


appearance  at  one's  table  that  even  the  most  captious 
could  not  quarrel  with." 

"  Indeed  yes,  you  say  right,  until  just  lately,  until  his 
nose  grew  peaked  and  he  sighed  like  some  monstrous 
furnace.  He  fell  off  villainously  in  his  appetite,  too.  I 
vow  it  took  away  what  little  I  possessed  to  have  the 
fellow  sitting  opposite  fiddling  with  his  food  like  a  girl 
in  the  vapors.  But  there !  they  all  have  had  the  same 
complaint,  I  think." 

"  Think,  miss,"  Mrs.  Crewe  interrupted,  unable  to 
contain  herself  longer.  "  You  know  as  well  as  I." 

Peggy  tapped  her  foot  reflectively  upon  the  floor. 

"A  lingering  illness,"  she  said  after  a  moment, 
'*  symptoms — stuttering  speech,  hollow  eyes  darting 
burning  glances,  an  indifference  to  work,  a  tendency  to 
write  execrable  verses,  disinclination  for  food,  pains  in 
the  chest — to  the  left  side,  that  is — a  predisposition  to 
melancholy  and  moonlight —  hm ! — hm !  Patient  talks 
much  of  early  death,  with  all  the  probability  that  he 
will  see  three-score  and  end  with  gout  from  high  liv- 
ing. Don't  distress  yourself^  madam,  they  never  die  of 
the  complaint." 

"  No,  they  don't  die  of  it,  but  it  unfits  them  for  their 
duties,"  Mrs.  Crewe  snapped.  "  I  was  willing  enough 
to  let  the  other  two  go,  having  the  promise  of  this 
young  fellow  out  of  Surrey.  Such  an  excellent  pen- 
man as  he  was — and  of  quick  understanding,  a  word 
was  sufficient  for  him — a  good  voice,  too,  in  reading 
aloud " 

"  And  in  singing  also,  madam.  Did  you  ever  hear 
his :  '  Oh  so  white !  Oh  so  soft !  Oh  so  sweet — so 
swee-ee-eet  is  she  '  ?  " 

66 


Mother  and  Daughter 

"  Recommended  by  Sir  Charles  Hardy  himself," 
pursued  the  angry  woman,  taking  no  note  of  the  girl's 
song,  "  who  assured  me  that  he  was  a  gentleman  by 
birth,  a  cadet  of  the  family  of " 

"  Mercy  on  us !  and  this  paragon  has  slipped  through 
your  fingers.  Let's  have  the  town-crier  out  to  call  your 
loss." 

"  If  you're  not  more  respectful,  miss,  I'll  lock  you  in 
your  chamber  and  keep  you  there  for  a  week  on  bread 
and  water.  I'll  let  you  know  I  have  some  authority  in 
my  own  house  at  least." 

"  Nay,  I  meant  no  harm.  I  was  but  offering  my  con- 
dolence in  a  proper  spirit  and  I  see  I've  offended  you — 
I  cry  your  pardon.  Has  the  young  gentleman  gone  to 
drown  himself  incontinently  off  the  quay,  or  will  the 
fish  pond  suffice?  A  little  cold  water  will  do  him  in- 
finite good.  Why,  ma'am,  having  some  faint  suspicion 
of  his  complaint  I  did  honestly  try  to  overcome  it  by 
such  measures,  but  I  presume  the  fever  must  run  its 
course.  Shall  you  ask  for  prayers  in  the  church  ?  " 

The  corners  of  Mrs.  Crewe's  mouth  were  drawn 
down  ominously. 

"  One  thing  you  must  learn,  Margaret :  I  am  not 
going  to  suffer  impertinence.  You'd  best  have  a 
care." 

"  La,  I  think  so,  when  you  forget  to  call  me  Peggy. 
Such  a  stiff  and  stately  name  as  that  same  Margaret  is 
to  come  from  the  lips  of  a  girl's  mother,  and  all  because 
a  little  scrubby  secretary  chooses  to  pout  and  cry  for 
the  moon."  She  paused  a  moment,  standing  irresolute 
in  the  sunlight,  her  laughing  face  lengthening  into  sud- 
den gravity.  Then,  as  if  vanquishing  her  fears,  she 

67 


God's  Puppets 


threw  back  her  head  and  tip-toed  across  the  room  to 
the  writing-table.  "  You  don't  want  him  to  have  the 
moon  ?  "  she  demanded  softly. 

The  elder  woman  twitched  her  arm  away. 

"  I  want  you  to  leave  him  alone." 

"  But  I  did,  oh !  la,  yes,  and  that's  the  trouble.  If  I 
hadn't  he'd  be  here  to-day  blotting  all  this  nice  paper 
and  drawing  pictures  of  me  when  you  weren't  looking, 
and  trying  to  make  '  secretarry '  rhyme  with  '  Peg  I 
marry.'  Indeed,  I  know  him.  But  he'll  come  round 
— perhaps." 

"  I  wish  you'd  remember,"  her  mother  returned  peev- 
ishly, "  that  those  creatures  are  really  men,  and  if  you 
flatter  them  by  listening  to  them — as  you've  a  trick  of 
doing,  miss,  I'm  neither  a  fool,  nor  blind — they  will  fall 
to  dreaming.  And  this  was  such  a  nice  boy,  you  might 
have  left  him  alone." 

"  Faith  I  did,  I  swear  it !  What  pretty  little  ears  you 
have,  madam,  and  how  those  garnet  rings  become 
them." 

"  They  can't  help  dreaming  and  the  waking  is  dis- 
agreeable for  everyone.  Here  am  I  with  all  these  cards 
for  my  drum  unwritten  and  that  pile  of  business  letters 
there  to  be  answered,  and  Mr.  Secretary  sends  me 
word  he's  too  ill  to  wait  on  me  this  morning.  Pre- 
sumptuous ! " 

"  Presumptuous,"  echoed  Peggy  with  righteous  in- 
dignation, though  she  stifled  a  yawn  the  next  moment. 
"Well,  let  him  go !  'Twill  not  be  difficult  to  replace  him. 
La,  mamma,  you're  never  going  to  make  the  fellow  more 
conceited  than  he  is  by  having  him  suppose  he  is  in- 
dispensable to  you.  There  are  good  secretaries  going 

68 


Mother  and  Daughter 

a-begging  at  this  very  moment,  those  who  would  mind 
their  p's  and  q's  better  than  he,  I  warrant." 

"  Tis  you,  miss,  who  should  mind  your  p's  and  q's 
as  you  call  it.  I'm  tired  of  your  behaviour.  When  I 
was  a  young  lady  my  name  was  not  on  every  lip " 

"  Oh !  fie,  mamma.  I've  heard  you  were  the  toast  of 
the  town — '  Gentlemen,  I  give  you  the  eyes  of  Nelly 
Fanshawe '  " 

"Hm!  I  had  fine  eyes." 

"Had,  madam?"   ' 

"  There  run  away,  child.  You  disturb  me  and  I've 
double  work  to  do  all  on  account  of  your  nonsense.  I 
suppose  you  mean  no  great  harm." 

"  Indeed,  no,  but  what  can  a  poor  girl  do  when  those 
simple  creatures  swear  they  love  her?  It's  like  my 
Lady  Betty  in  the  play  where  she  says  she  could  no 
more  choose  a  man  by  her  eye  than  a  shoe.  '  We  must 
draw  them  on  a  little  to  see  if  they  are  right,'  says  she, 
'  and  then  the  poor  wretch  tells  one  he'll  widen  'em,  or 
do  anything,  and  is  so  civil  and  so  silly  that  one  doesn't 
know  how  to  turn  such  a  trifle  as  a  pair  of  shoes,  or  a 
heart,  upon  a  fellow's  hands  again.'  'Tis  very  hard," 
she  drew  a  deep  sigh  and  dropped  her  head  in  mock 
melancholy ;  the  chief  charm  of  her  face  was  its  mobil- 
ity— it  could  assume  at  short  notice  any  expression  she 
willed,  but  at  this  moment  there  was  a  mischievous  light 
in  her  eyes  that  gave  the  lie  to  her  demure  lips. 

"  You  must  marry,  Peggy." 

"  Not  I,"  she  snapped  her  fingers  disdainfully. 
"  What !  be  chained  to  one  of  those  tejus  creatures  for 
a  life-time,  to  hear,  first  his  vows,  then  his  protestations, 
then  his  ratings,  then  his  jealousies,  to  be  at  his  beck 

69 


God's  Puppets 


and  call  ?  Not  I.  I  am  in  love  with  no  man,  I  am  in 
love  with  my  own  freedom."  She  moved  away  from  the 
arm  of  the  chair,  where  she  had  been  lounging,  to  the 
centre  of  the  room  and  took  a  few  dancing  steps,  hold- 
ing up  her  gown  on  either  side.  The  sight  of  her  radi- 
ant, flippant  beauty  angered  the  watching  woman. 

"  But  I  tell  you  you  must  marry,"  she  retorted,  bring- 
ing her  little  fist  down  on  the  table  angrily,  her  face 
red  with  passion.  "  I'm  worried  half  to  death  by  my 
affairs.  There  have  been  losses — Jameson  has  misman- 
aged— and  I  am  hard  put  to  meet  all  your  extravagances 
and  those  of  your  brother.  He  is  in  debt  half  the  time 
and  he,  wanting  two  years  of  full  age,  forgets  that  what 
I  give  him  I  give  out  of  my  own  generosity.  As  for 
you,  there's  not  another  girl  in  town  who  fritters  away 
as  much  money  on  fallals,  and  if  they  brought  any  good 
results,  the  Lord  knows  I'd  not  begrudge  it " 

"If  they  brought  any  good  results?"  Peggy  inter- 
rupted coldly,  her  head  high.  "  I  don't  understand  you. 
Faith,  do  you  think  that  when  I  don  my  blue  gown  it's 
with  the  object  to  draw  an  offer  of  marriage  from  this 
man,  or  t'other?  Or  when  I  put  on  my  rose-colored 
taffetas  that  I  say  to  myself  '  this  will  fetch  Tom,  Dick 
and  Harry  to  your  feet '  ?  I  know  they're  there,  they'd 
be  there  if  I  looked  a  frump  in  linsey-woolsey  because 
I'm  Peggy  Crewe."  She  shrugged  her  shoulders,  her 
face  dimpling.  "  No,  when  I  study  the  fashion-babies 
at  my  mantua-maker's  'tis  for  the  reason  that  I  want  to 
go  as  fine — nay  finer — than  any  Miss  of  my  acquaint- 
ance. La,  I'm  not  thinking  of  the  men  at  all  when  I 
dress,  'tis  only  to  be  a  thorn  in  the  flesh  of  my  sisters." 
She  threw  back  her  head,  laughing  immoderately.  "  Oh 

70 


Mother  and  Daughter 

lud !  how  I  prick  some  of  'em,"  she  added  after  a  mo- 
ment, wiping  her  eyes  with  a  little  square  of  lawn  edged 
with  lace. 

"  I  don't  know  what  I've  done,"  the  widow  moaned, 
"that  Heaven  should  punish  me  with  such  undutiful 
children.  I'm  sure  I  was  the  pattern  of  docility  to  my 
own  poor,  dear  mamma  and  papa — I  never  thought  of 
questioning  their  authority.  When  they  said  '  marry  ' 
I  was  willing  to  accept  their  word  as  final,  and  so  I  told 
your  father  when  he  came  a-wooing.  Even  if  he  hadn't 
adored  me  to  distraction  I  should  have  obeyed  them 
unquestioningly." 

Peggy's  short  upper  lip  curled  wickedly.  She  was 
not  oblivious  of  the  fact  that  her  grandfather's  money- 
bags were  largely  instrumental  in  buying  the  hand  and 
heart  of  a  certain  impecunious  gentleman,  whose  old 
family  name  had  been  an  object  of  envy  to  many  of 
lesser  birth  in  the  new  colony.  She  carried  the  remem- 
brance of  numerous  heated  discussions  waged  between 
her  parents  stowed  safely  away  in  the  lavender  of  her 
memory. 

"  And  when  I  only  have  your  good  at  heart,"  the 
fretful  voice  went  on,  "  I  don't  counsel  you  to  marry 
everybody " 

"  Goodness  gracious,  I  should  hope  not,  mamma !  " 

"  You  know  very  well  what  I  mean,  miss,"  cried  Mrs. 
Crewe  shrilly.  "  I  want  you  to  be  particular,  I  am  par- 
ticular for  you  myself.  You've  the  pick  of  the  town  at 
your  feet  and  the  best  of  all  the  strangers  who  come  to 
us.  Who  are  you,  I'd  like  to  know,  that  you  should  not 
be  thankful  of  a  good  match  when  it  is  offered  ?  Youth 
doesn't  last  forever,  let  me  tell  you.  You'd  best  remem- 

71 


God's  Puppets 


her  that !   There's  young  Lofters  now,  who  is  travelling 
over  here  with  his  tutor — it's  a  good  title  and  rich " 

"That  little  fool?" 

The  widow  drew  her  breath  with  a  deep  gasp  of 
horror. 

"  I  marvel  at  you  for  saying  so.  He  is  cried  up  on 
all  sides  for  his  parts.  They  are  remarkable  for  a  lord." 

"  I've  heard  an  oyster  speak  as  eloquently  fifty  times. 
La,  if  he's  a  wit  'tis  only  by  the  grace  of  our  women, 
and  not  from  any  gift  of  nature.  One  would  think  he 
chewed  opium,  he's  so  tejus  stupid." 

"  The  alliance  would  please  me  vastly,  such  noble 
estates — Jameson  has  made  all  inquiries — and  he  adores 
you,  my  dear,  he  does  indeed — the  whole  town  talks  of 
his  infatuation.  Come,  think  better  of  it — a  title  and 
court,  a  house  in  London  and  several  seats  in  the  coun- 
try— What  could  a  girl  ask  better  ?  He's  not  so  simple 
after  all,  though  your  cousin  laughs  horrid  at  him  and 
counsels  me  not  to  press  his  suit." 

"  I'd  thank  our  cousin  Bellenden  to  hold  his  tongue," 
Peggy  cried  with  flaming  cheeks  as  she  paced  up  and 
down  the  room,  setting  by  an  encroaching  chair  with  a 
tempestuous  hand.  "  Lofters  is — a — a — he's  not  so  bad, 
really,  when  you  come  to  think  of  it.  I  don't  know  a 
man  who  bows  with  more  grace." 

"  Then  you  will  be  kind  to  him  ?  " 

"  I  won't  promise,  but  if  my  cousin  thinks  to  influence 
me  by  what  he  says  I'll  show  him  different.  Cousin 
Bellenden,  forsooth!  The  man  has  bewitched  you  all 
— Larry  is  his  very  shadow  and  you  like  to  have  him 
here,  you  know  you  do.  A  man  who,  first  and  last,  is 
in  love  with  himself  and  thinks  every  petticoat  he  meets 

72 


Mother  and  Daughter 

shares  the  infatuation,  one  who  dawdles  about  all  day 
and  plays  cards  all  night.  A  pretty  fellow,  he,  to  give 
counsel  on  any  subject!  If  you're  vexed  with  Larry 
because  he  spends  too  much,  forbid  him  my  cousin 
Bellenden's  company  then." 

"  The  captain  is  not  one  to  lead  any  boy  astray. 
Larry  was  reckless  and  extravagant  before  his  coming, 
as  you  know.  This  is  not  the  first  time  I've  spoke 
to  you  about  him.  I've  just  had  an  interview  with 
him  and  I  told  him  that  I'll  give  him  no  more  money 
until  next  quarter,  and  pay  no  more  debts  whatever 
they  be,  nor  to  whom  incurred — I've  let  as  much  get 
abroad —  Do  see  who's  knocking,  Peggy." 

The  girl  lounged  over  to  the  door  and  flung  it  wide, 
disclosing  a  servant  in  the  passage  without. 

"  What  is  it,  Hobbes  ?  Never  visitors  at  this  un- 
earthly hour?  " 

"  It's  Capting  Bellenden,  miss.  He's  in  the  tapes- 
try-room and  he  presents  his  compliments  to  my  lady, 
and  he— 

"  That  will  do.  Tell  the  gentleman  Mrs.  Crewe  will 
be  with  him  shortly."  She  waited  until  the  flunkey 
was  out  of  hearing,  then  she  stepped  back  into  the 
room. 

"  Your  precious  captain,  madam,"  she  announced 
pompously,  "  and  I've  not  denied  you  to  him." 

"  But  I  can't  see  him  in  this  ojious  dishabille,  I'm 
such  a  fright!  Help  me,  love,  my  hair  has  all  come 
down  and  this  cap  is  outrageous  unbecoming.  Do  you 
go  to  him,  dear  child,  and  keep  him  talking.  I  promise 
to  join  you  in  five  minutes  at  the  most.  Oh!  you 
wouldn't  have  me  go  looking  as  I  do." 

73 


"  He  might  not  come  again,"  Peggy  laughed  wick- 
edly. 

"  Then  run,  there's  a  pet !  and  you  shall  have  the  gar- 
nets you  coveted  so  the  other  day." 

Peggy  made  a  wry  face  and  stood  balancing  her 
hand,  almost  as  if  she  were  weighing  the  jewels  in 
question  against  her  scruples. 

"  They  come  pretty  high,"  she  mused.  "  I  wonder  if 
they're  worth  it — Well !  I'll  close  the  bargain.  But  not 
more  than  five  minutes,  remember." 

The  last  words  were  uttered  to  empty  air,  for  Mrs. 
Crewe  had  beaten  a  hasty  retreat.  The  girl  looked  after 
her  flying  skirts  with  some  amusement,  then,  affecting 
a  yawn,  she  walked  carelessly  over  to  the  mirror  be- 
tween the  windows,  twitched  the  lace  at  her  throat, 
patted  her  hair  into  shape  and  drew  a  little  patch-box 
from  her  pocket  and  applied  a  small,  black  crescent  to 
one  cheek,  shifting  it  from  one  position  to  another. 
When  it  was  at  last  satisfactorily  disposed  she  played 
the  peacock  for  some  moments  longer,  then  she  leaned 
closer  to  the  mirror,  with  her  hands  resting  on  either 
side  of  the  frame,  and  studied  the  reflection  there  until 
the  mist  from  her  breath  blurred  the  smiling  picture ; 
she  gave  a  short  laugh  as  she  turned  away. 

A  long  acquaintance  with  her  mother  had  imbued 
her  with  the  knowledge  that  to  hasten  over  the  mys- 
teries of  the  toilet  is  not  one  of  the  prerogatives  of 
advancing  years,  and  her  manner,  therefore,  was  leis- 
urely and  unconcerned  as  she  sauntered  along  the  cor- 
ridor until  the  tapestry-room  was  reached.  She  paused 
there  a  moment,  her  eyes  kindling  with  mischief,  and 
drew  one  end  of  her  gauze  scarf  closer  to  her  cheek, 

74 


Mother  and  Daughter 

then  she  set  the  door  ajar.  Slight  as  was  the  noise  she 
made  the  man,  who  was  studying  a  picture  on  the  far 
side  of  the  room,  heard  it  and  turned  to  meet  her. 

She  sank  before  him  in  a  low  curtsey,  almost  touch- 
ing the  floor  with  her  knee  and  letting  the  scarf  drop 
slowly  from  her  mocking  face. 

"  Not  your  charmer,  cousin  Bellenden,"  she  said  de- 
murely, "  but  do  not  grieve  as  those  without  hope.  She 
will  come  later — very  much  later,  I  fear  me!  For  the 
present  I  am  here  to  comfort  you  in  your  affliction  and 
to  divert  you,  so  my  mamma  hath  commanded.  Shall 
I  show  you  my  new  dancing-steps?  My  master  says 
I  do  them  with  uncommon  grace,  but  la,  the  poor  man 
dotes  on  me.  Or  shall  I  say  a  verse  to  you  out  of  the 
poets,  or  my  alphabet  perhaps?  'Twas  only  this  very 
morning  that  my  mamma  cautioned  me  to  mind  my 
p's  and  q's." 


75 


VII 


Peggy  stood  at  one  of  the  long  windows  in  the 
chintz-room,  gazing  disconsolately  at  the  sodden  land- 
scape and  beating  a  little  monotonous  tattoo  upon  the 
rain-splashed  glass.  The  day  was  full  of  gloom ;  a  gray 
mist  rose  from  the  river  to  meet  the  gray  sky  closing 
the  prospect  in,  and  through  the  sheets  of  falling  water 
the  trees  loomed  indistinct  shapes,  now  distant,  now 
near  at  hand,  dripping  with  moisture ;  even  the  flowers, 
in  the  trim  parterres,  had  lost  their  vivid  hues  and  cow- 
ered, like  so  many  wraiths  of  their  former  beauty,  be- 
fore the  driving  wind,  or  lay  bent  and  broken  where  re- 
sistance had  proved  unavailing. 

The  girl  yawned  dismally  and  glanced  back  at  her 
brother  sitting  at  the  table  in  the  center  of  the  room, 
ostensibly  busy  with  a  book  which,  her  keen  eyes  told 
her,  he  was  only  making  a  pretence  of  reading.  He 
seemed  to  ignore  her  presence,  though  that  he  was 
aware  of  it  was  evidenced  by  the  fact  that,  when  she 
was  not  looking,  he  cast  stealthy  glances  her  way.  The 
silence  between  them  continued  for  some  time  un- 
broken, save  for  the  sound  that  came  from  her  im- 
patient fingers ;  then  finally,  as  if  it  had  grown  unbear- 
able even  to  her,  she  quitted  her  place  at  the  window 
and  seated  herself  opposite  him,  leaning  forward  and 
resting  her  elbows  on  the  polished  surface  of  the  table 

76 


A  Conspiracy 


and  dropping  her  chin  into  the  little  hollow  formed  by 
her  hands. 

" '  Why  so  pale  and  wan,  fond  lover,  prythee,  why 
so  pale  ? '  "  she  mocked. 

He  pushed  the  book  from  him  and  thrust  his  legs 
out  to  their  utmost  extent,  eying  the  buckles  which 
adorned  his  shoes  with  a  sudden  keen  interest. 

"  Where's  my  mother  ?  "  he  demanded  after  a  mo- 
ment. 

A  smile  twitched  at  the  corners  of  Peggy's  mouth, 
though  she  kept  her  voice  demure  enough  as  she  an- 
swered his  question. 

"  In  her  office,  putting  the  new  secretary  through  his 
paces.  A  chaplain  this  time — that  sounds  well,  doesn't 
it?  Mrs.  Crewe's  chaplain — so  domestic  and  sedate! 
I'd  have  dispensed  with  the  cloth  and  the  squint  had  I 
been  consulted.  It's  good  he  closes  his  eyes  when  he 
prays,  else  would  he  disconcert  the  Lord  in  very  truth. 
Well,  I  shall  never  be  able  to  tell  when  he  is  looking 
my  way  which  will  set  my  mother's  fears  at  rest " 

"  I  should  think  you  might  be  serious  some  time," 
grumbled  her  brother. 

"  Serious,  oh,  la,  yes,  as  serious  as  you  please,"  the 
girl  shrugged  her  shoulders  indifferently.  "  Why  should 
you  doubt  me?  But  you  ask  too  much.  Do  you  re- 
member the  brook  up  at  Crewe  Park  ?  It  chatters  and 
dances  over  the  stones  on  its  way  to  the  sea  and  even 
when  it  passes  through  the  darkest  woods  it  doesn't 
stop  its  laughing,  being  just  a  shallow,  little  brook  it 
keeps  its  merry  voice  unaltered.  It  can't  change.  The 
shadows  have  reached  its  heart,  we  know,  and  yet  the 
chatter  goes  on  unceasingly,  because  that's  its  nature. 

77 


God's  Puppets 


You  don't  quarrel  with  it  on  that  account,  do  you  ?  " 
She  put  her  hand  on  his  arm  half-caressingly.  "  What 
is  it— the  old  trouble?" 

He  shrugged  away  from  her  touch  and  turned  in  his 
chair  to  cast  a  cautious  glance  around  the  room,  which 
even  the  cheerless  light  could  not  rob  of  its  brilliant 
coloring;  then  he  leant  nearer  his  companion. 

"  Clean  broke,"  he  whispered. 

"  I'm  so  sorry,  boy,  and  I  can't  help  you.  My  mother 
was  in  a  pretty  tantrum  t'other  day  when  she  discovered 
those  silly  beads  were  missing.  I  don't  know  how  she 
found  out.  She's  taken  my  jewel-case  into  her  keep- 
ing now,  and  doles  me  out  an  occasional  trinket  as  if  I 
was  still  a  child.  Here's  a  locket  though,  if  'twill  be 
of  any  use.  But  faith !  things  will  take  a  turn,  Touch- 
stone will  save  you " 

"  Touchstone !  "  Larry's  voice  broke  over  the  sylla- 
bles. "  I  tell  you  what  it  is,  Peggy,  I'll  go  hang  my- 
self." 

The  girl's  hands  flew  up  to  hide  her  face  turned  sud- 
denly ashy  gray. 

"  Don't,"  she  cried  from  behind  their  shelter.  "  Oh ! 
how  could  you — how  could  you  ?  Why  should  you  re- 
mind me  of  it  every  moment  ?  I  can't  sleep  nights  for 
seeing  that  figure  hanging  there — it's  always  before  me 
— every  nodding  branch  makes  me  think  of  what  they 
found  in  the  woods " 

"  I  didn't  know  you  cared " 

"  Why  ?  Because  I  laughed,  and  teased,  and  seemed 
light-hearted  ?  It's  the  brook's  way,  I  tell  you,  it's  my 
nature  and  it  helps  me  to  forget.  When  I  am  quiet  my 
thoughts  are  enough  to  drive  me  mad.  The  daylight 

78 


A  Conspiracy 


doesn't  keep  the  sight  away,  though  I  bless  the  day- 
light that  is  so  long  in  coming.  Oh !  Larry  I  think  the 
nights  are  fifty  hours  long." 

"  You  might  have  averted  all  this,"  he  admonished 
pompously,  perplexed  by  her  vehemence  and  her  un- 
natural, tremulous  voice ;  her  chatter  was  more  to  his 
liking,  though  he  had  seen  fit  to  quarrel  with  it  a  mo- 
ment before. 

"  I  never  dreamt  it  would  end  this  way,"  she  said  un- 
steadily. "  How  could  I  know  he  would  be  so  weak  ? 
For  it  was  weak  in  him  to  take  his  life  because  a  girl's 
love  was  not  for  him,  as  if  that  was  all  the  world  had 
to  offer — as  if  the  struggles — the  buffetings,  the  over- 
coming, amounted  to  nothing.  Love!  I  hate  the  silly 
mawkish  word.  What  does  it  mean  after  all?  You, 
who  have  sighed  to  this  woman  and  that,  tell  me — if 
you  can — what  you  mean  by  love.  A  thousand  times 
you've  sworn  you'd  die  for  her — I'll  wager  that — then 
one  day  she  frowns,  or  her  beauty's  askew,  or — more 
likely  still — your  own  fancy,  which  is  lighter  than  this- 
tledown, blows  cold  and  you  go  your  way  forgetting 
quickly,  and  all  that  dies  is  that  little,  formless  thing 
you  called  love.  Bah!  It's  vanity,  it's  caprice,  it's 
passion  perhaps,  it's  anything  but  what  will  endure.  I 
please  one  man  because  of  my  shape,  another  because 
his  fellow  admires  me,  a  third  because  of  the  arch  of 
my  foot,  a  fourth  because  of  my  mother's  gold,  and 
were  I  not  by  any  other  girl  would  win  the  same  re- 
gard. He'd  swear  to  her  in  just  the  same  fashion, 
swear  to  a  dozen  hers,  very  like,  at  the  same  time,  for 
you  men  are  spendthrifts  in  your  protestations."  She 
stopped  out  of  breath. 

79 


God's  Puppets 


"  I — I  thought  he  was  like  the  others,"  she  went  on 
after  a  moment.  "  I'd  heard  it  all  before  so  many  times, 
read  almost  the  same  verses,  met  almost  the  same 
glances — it  was  just  in  the  play,  you  know.  And  I — 
I — laughed  at  him,  bade  him  stick  to  his  desk,  go — or 
come — it  mattered  not  to  me.  But  the  end — "  her  voice 
dropped  to  a  shuddering  whisper,  "  here  one  day — 
alive  and  well,  and  I  mocking  him — and  the  next,  that 
ghastly,  silent  thing  they  found  yonder,  upbraiding  me 
with  his  poor  dead  lips.  His  heart  meant  nothing  to 
me — 'twas  a  mere  plaything — but  his  life —  Ah !  how 
different — how  different.  To  give  up  all  the  joy  of  liv- 
ing, the  beauty  of  the  earth  and  sky  to  become — 
that! " 

"  Lord !  Peggy,  the  fellow  had  little  spirit  and  so  let 
him  go.  My  mother  talked  a  deal  about  his  breeding, 
but  he  was  a  craven  when  everything's  said  and  done. 
Tis  only  a  coward,  after  all,  that  will  let  circumstances 
get  the  best  of  him.  A  man  should  be  master  of  his 
fate,  or  make  a  good  fight  for  it,  then — conqueror,  or 
conquered — he  has  proved  his  mettle." 

A  sudden  smile  broke  up  the  misery  on  the  girl's  face. 

"  Hear  the  parson !  "  she  jeered.  "  A  moment  ago  he 
was  all  for  hanging  himself." 

"  Words  are  not  deeds,"  he  returned  sententiously, 
"but  if  I  was,  it  was  for  no  such  trivial  thing  as  a 
woman's  favor." 

"  No,  your  head  will  take  care  of  your  heart,  past  a 
doubt.  We  Crewes  are  like  that.  I've  no  fear  for 
either  of  us  whatever  fate  may  bring — gay  words  to  the 
end  and  no  showing  of  wounds  for  the  pity  of  others — 
that's  our  creed !  But  despite  my  brave  speeches  I'm 

80 


A  Conspiracy 


going  to  do  what  no  Crewe  has  ever  yet  done — I  am 
going  to  run  away."  Her  voice  grew  tremulous  again. 
"  I  can't  stay  here — that's  the  truth ! — with  that  dread- 
ful shadow  haunting  me  at  every  turn  of  the  paths  and 
stepping  out  to  meet  me  on  the  stairs,  and  in  the  cor- 
ridors. I  hate  every  soul  I  see,  and  as  for  drums,  and 
cards,  and  gossip  at  the  Pump,  or  in  the  Gardens — 
why,  I've  no  taste  for  'em.  It's  all  so  tejus  dull — the 
same  stale  round,  nothing  diverting,  nothing  new !  So, 
the  chance  offering,  I'm  going  to  Albany  to  visit  Nancy 
Stirling.  I've  my  mother's  permission  to  stay  a  month 
at  least.  My  boxes  are  nearly  packed  and  Bennet  and 
I  go  by  the  Speedwell,  Captain  Lewis,  the  day  after  to- 
morrow. I'd  wait  for  the  Runs  only  my  mother  won't 
have  it,  the  ship  must  sail  Thursday,  willy-nilly,  she  has 
already  been  delayed  a  sennight  past  her  time.  But  I 
wish  you  luck,  boy — my  prayers  go  with  you." 

"  Keep  'em  for  yourself,"  he  retorted  gruffly.  "  I've 
no  need  of  'em." 

She  missed  the  note  of  confidence  from  his  bluster- 
ing tones  and  scanned  his  face  curiously.  His  eyes — 
in  which  anger,  disappointment,  and  stolid  resignation 
struggled  and  rent  one  another  for  supremacy — met 
hers  unflinchingly  for  a  moment ;  then  her  lips  framed 
a  questioning  word,  though  she  did  not  utter  it  aloud. 

"  Sandy  got  into  a  brawl  with  some  roughs  last  night 
and  they  did  for  him,"  he  cried — "  broke  his  ribs  and 
his  head — he's  a  mass  of  pulp.  He'll  not  ride  again 
this  season,  curse  him !  " 

"Was  it  foul  play?" 

"  He  swears  as  much,  says  they  set  on  him  without 
provocation — but  I  know  him  for  a  swaggerer.  What 

81 


God's  Puppets 


does  it  matter?  The  mischief's  done  and  he's  unfitted 
for  his  work.  As  for  me,  with  this  confounded  stiff- 
ness, I  couldn't  ride  my  beauty  through  any  race  with 
the  hope  to  win — and  oh  God !  he's  in  such  prime  con- 
dition." 

Peggy  sat  and  stared  open-mouthed,  open-eyed ;  her 
ready  tongue  silenced  in  the  presence  of  her  brother's 
misery. 

"  And  the  purse  gone !  "  his  voice  seemed  to  come 
from  a  great  distance,  it  was  so  husky.  "  I'd  looked  on 
it  as  mine — it  would  have  been  mine,  I  tell  you — there 
isn't  a  horse  in  the  field  to  be  feared,  none  of  'em  are 
any  good  compared  to  Touchstone.  The  purse  was 
ours,  past  a  doubt!  And  then  the  bets  out  on  him — 
Gad,  I  meant  to  wipe  out  old  scores  and  begin  afresh. 
At  the  coffee-houses  the  odds  are  all  in  our  favor  and 
now  I  must  sneak  away  and  hide  myself,  or  go  and 
grin,  and  wave  my  hat  when  another  man's  horse 
streaks  past  the  winning-post  while  my  own  beauty  is 
fretting  his  heart  out,  useless  in  his  stall." 

"  There's  no  one — "  Peggy  began  softly. 

"  No  one — you  know  the  stables  as  well  as  I.  Sandy 
was  the  only  one  of  the  lot  who  could  manage  Touch- 
stone. There  isn't  another  of  the  boys  but  Greene  that 
that  horse  will  stand  having  near  him — and  Greene 
can't  ride  straight — the  sight  of  a  crowd  paralyzes  him, 
he  has  no  head !  It'd  be  throwing  over  the  race  at  the 
start  to  put  him  up." 

"  I  know — I  know — poor  Touchstone " 

"  Don't !  I've  been  through  that  until  I'm  half 
mad." 

There  was  a  long  silence  between  the  two  which  was 
82 


A  Conspiracy 


broken  at  last  by  the  girl  with  a  faint  scream,  as  she 
jumped  to  her  feet  and  ran  around  in  front  of  her 
brother. 

"  Larry,  there  is  some  one  else !  We  were  fools  to 
have  forgotten." 

"Who?  For  God's  sake,  don't  keep  me  in  sus- 
pense." 

She  paused  half  breathless,  half  laughing.  Then  with 
a  sudden  stiffening  of  her  figure,  so  that  on  the  moment 
it  seemed  to  grow  awkward  and  wooden  before  his 
eyes,  she  put  her  hand  to  her  head  and  pulled  an  im- 
aginary forelock,  scraping  her  foot  behind  her  as  a 
country  lout  might  have  done. 

"  Your  sarvint,  Mester  Larry." 

A  wave  of  crimson  flooded  the  young  fellow's  face 
and  the  muscles  in  his  throat  throbbed  visibly  with  the 
strain  he  put  upon  himself  to  keep  from  striking  her. 
He  stared  at  her  a  moment  without  a  word,  contempt 
growing  in  his  glance,  then :  "  You  little  cat !  "  he  cried 
in  smothered  accents  as  he  flung  himself  out  of  his  chair 
and  made  as  though  to  leave  the  room.  She  caught 
him  by  the  arm,  unheeding  the  fury  in  his  eyes. 

"  Larry,  listen !  I  mean  every  word.  I  can  ride 
Touchstone.  What's  to  prevent  my  riding  him  the  day 
of  the  race?  Hush!  let  me  speak.  You  want  the 
money,  Touchstone  wants  the  glory  and  I — I  want  the 
excitement.  Oh  the  novelty  of  the  thing — the  crowd 
— the  start — the  run — the  finish — the  victory!  Why 
shouldn't  I  do  it?  Because  I  am  a  girl?  Well,  see! 
you  are  in  a  great  strait,  crippled  with  debts  and  our 
mother  is  obdurate,  or  so  she  says,  and  the  solution  is 
very  simple.  This  race,  the  purse,  and  the  money  from 

83 


God's  Puppets 


your  bets  are  all  yours  if  you  will  let  me  help  you. 
Won't  you?" 

Their  faces  were  very  close;  the  one  flushed  with 
recklessness,  the  other  white  and  wavering,  touched 
with  hope,  incredulity  and  despair. 

"  You  couldn't  do  it,  Peggy,"  he  said  hoarsely  after 
a  moment. 

"  Couldn't  do  it — couldn't  it.  Do  you  remember 
what  cousin  Bellenden  told  us  of  the  Woffington  mas- 
querading in  private  life  as  a  young  gallant  to  avenge 
herself  on  that  faithless  Irish  lover  of  hers  ?  How  she 
frequented  the  garden — never  mind  which  one — dressed 
as  a  fop  and  met  the  titled  lady  for  whom  he  had  desert- 
ed her ;  how  she,  still  in  her  disguise,  paid  court  to  that 
lady  and  when  she  had  won  her  liking  denounced  that 
other's  deceit  and  treachery  ?  What  Peggy  Woffington 
could  do  to  punish  a  lover,  Peggy  Crewe  can  do  to  help 
her  brother.  Lud,  Larry,  don't  frown  on  the  scheme — 
'tis  not  so  difficult,  once  you  look  sensibly  at  it.  I'll 
wager  my  mocus  set  nobody  would  recognize  me,  and 
think  of  the  rare  sport  I'd  have,  passing  them  by  on 
the  run — me  and  Touchstone — beating  them — beating 
them — and  a  girl  at  that !  " 

"  You  couldn't  do  it,  Peggy."  The  words  were  the 
same  but  the  indecision  in  his  voice  filled  her  with 
rapture ;  she  clung  to  his  coat  with  both  hands. 

"  So  simple,  Larry,"  she  went  on  eagerly.  "  Sandy  is 
about  my  height  and  you've  got  a  fire-new  racing  suit 
for  him — let  me  have  it  and  I'll  manage  the  rest  and 
do  you  no  discredit.  That  part  is  easy  of  arrangement 
and  sure,  there's  no  question  of  my  horsemanship.  I'm 
as  much  a  part  of  my  horse,  once  I'm  on  his  back,  as 

84 


A  Conspiracy 


one  of  those  thingumighigs  in  the  history  books.  Since 
the  time  I  was  five  until  I  was  fifteen  I  rode  astride 
both  in  saddle,  or  bareback,  up  at  Crewe.  In  all  our 
rides  together  you  never  had  to  stop  to  remember  I  was 
a  girl  and  make  allowances  for  me,  did  you?  I  rode 
abreast  with  you  across  country,  took  the  same  leaps, 
faced  the  same  dangers — oh!  a  cause  loses  when  you 
have  to  patch  it  up  with  boasts — but  you  know  what  I 
say  is  true." 

"  Every  word  is  true,  except  that  instead  of  riding 
abreast  with  me  you  led  and  I  followed,  and  thought  it 
no  shame  to  be  beaten  by  a  girl  when  that  girl  was 
Peggy.  And  'tis  the  same  to-day." 

Her  eyes  danced  with  delight,  her  hands  went  up  and 
met  about  his  neck. 

"  And  Touchstone,"  she  cried  with  a  little  break  in 
her  voice  that  was  half  sob,  half  laugh,  "  he's  my  slave. 
Skill  and  subtlety  have  made  him  obedient  to  you  and 
Sandy,  but  love  has  won  him  to  me.  You've  not  for- 
got 'twas  I  that  tamed  him.  I  go  into  his  stall  without 
a  fear  and  he  whinnies  with  joy  at  the  sound  of  my 
step.  He  will  follow  me  in  the  paddock  like  a  dog  close 
at  heel — a  word  from  me  and  his  muzzle  is  thrust  into 
my  hand  and  his  eyes  look  deep  into  mine  until  we 
both  read  each  other's  heart.  He  stands  motionless  un- 
der my  caress,  where  he  starts  and  trembles  at  the  ap- 
proach of  yours.  Is  not  that  so?  Think  how  often 
I've  rode  him  up  at  Crewe  and  of  that  first  time  when 
I  saddled  him  with  my  own  hands  and  not  a  man  in  the 
stables  daring  so  much  as  touch  him  and  he  was  as 
gentle — as  gentle  as  a  kitten  to  me."  She  stopped 
breathless  and  shook  her  brother  slightly,  releasing 

85 


God's  Puppets 


him  the  next  moment.     "  Oh !  you  don't  trust  me,"  she 
wailed. 

"  I'd  trust  you  anywhere,"  he  answered  hotly,  "  but 
this  is  different.  The  crowd — the  race — it  takes  a 
steady  head  to  disregard  all  the  tumult — and  then 
there's  the  disguise.  What  if  you  were  recognized  ?  " 

"  Only  let  me  ride,  that's  all  I  ask.  If  you  trust  me 
so  far,  sure  you  can  safely  trust  me  for  the  rest.  I  sup- 
pose the  news  of  Sandy's  disaster  has  got  abroad  by 
now,  and  the  talk  everywhere  is  about  who'll  ride  your 
horse.  Well,  you  can  say  an  under-groom — a  lad  from 
England." 

"  But  all  this  will  interfere  with  your  visit." 

"  Not  a  whit.  I  shall  still  go  the  day  after  to-mor- 
row." She  paused  and  laughed  outright  at  the  expres- 
sion which  blotted  out  the  awakening  joy  in  his  face. 

He  stiffened  at  the  sound  of  her  mirth.  In  a  mo- 
ment the  thought  that  had  tortured  him  earlier  appealed 
to  him  again ;  she  was  simply  playing  with  him.  All 
her  pleadings  and  little  enthusiasms  were  but  puppets 
which  she  had  marshalled  forth,  and  dandled  one  after 
the  other,  to  relieve  the  tedium  of  a  rainy  day  and  to 
help  her  forget  what  it  would  be  well  for  her  to  remem- 
ber always.  She  read  his  thoughts,  even  as  they  were 
passing  through  his  mind,  and  stopped  him  with  a  gest- 
ure before  he  could  denounce  her. 

"  You  silly  boy  to  doubt  me,"  her  voice  was  a  caress. 
"  Can't  you  see  that  I  must  go  away  so  people  won't 
suspect  anything?  If  I  am  here  in  town  and  not  at 
the  races,  though  you  should  swear  never  so  that  I'd  a 
headache  at  home,  some  wise  person  would  put  two  and 
two  together  and  by  nightfall  the  whole  place  would 

86 


A  Conspiracy 


know  the  answer  to  the  sum.  And  then,  there's  my 
mother,  she  must  not  dream  of  it — she  least  of  all !  No, 
I  must  be  out  of  every  one's  mind,  so  I'll  set  sail  with 
my  woman  as  we've  arranged.  You  must  bring  a  vast 
company  to  the  wharf  to  bid  me  God-speed  and  that's 
the  last  of  Peggy  for  a  month.  Meanwhile,  I'll  only  go 
as  far  as  Yonkers.  There,  for  some  excellent  reason, 
I'll  have  Captain  Lewis  set  us  ashore — oh !  believe  me, 
he  won't  refuse  anything  I  ask — and  you'll  have  horses 
and  coach  awaiting  us,  and  we'll  post  back  to  Green- 
wich and  stay  at  our  cottage.  The  rest  is  simple — you'll 
come  and  fetch  me  away  the  morning  of  the  race " 

"  The  prettiest  little  groom  in  Christendom." 

"  Indeed,  not  so,  the  ugliest  if  you  will,  or  only  so 
far  ugly  as  to  escape  comment  of  any  kind.  I  must 
avert  attention,  not  court  it.  Greene  may  recognize 
me,  but  he'll  swear  black's  white  on  my  saying  so — we 
need  not  fear  him.  And  Larry,  as  soon  as  it  stops  rain- 
ing, go  you  to  Rosemary  Lane  to  that  old  peruke-maker 
— hm !  how  is  he  called  ?  The  one,  you  know,  who  says 
he  might  have  worked  for  the  King  if  His  Majesty 
would  have  employed  him.  Lord!  what  is  his  name? 
Oh,  John  Sill — that's  it !  Go  you  to  him  and  bring  back 
some  wigs — tell  him  you  want  the  shock  head  of  a  coun- 
try boy — fetch  them  yourself,  trust  no  one." 

He  caught  her  hands  and  swung  them  jubilantly  to- 
gether, his  face  kindled  with  the  confidence  of  hers,  his 
joy  at  white  heat. 

"  I'm  discretion  itself,  don't  doubt  me.  Oh !  my  girl, 
three  cheers  for  the  Crewe  colors — three  cheers  for 
the  purple " 

She  put  her  hand  on  his  lips. 
87 


God's  Puppets 


"  Hush !  not  beforehand — it's  bad  luck.  What 
horses  are  to  be  feared  ?  " 

"  Morris's  and  De  Lancey's.  Touchstone  can  walk 
away  from  the  rest  of  the  field,  but  American  Childers 
is  no  mean  rival,  and  Lath  presses  him  hard.  If  you 
should  fail " 

"  I  won't  fail.  A  woman's  hand  is  light  and  her  will 
is  firm,  and,  moreover,  the  gods  are  kind.  I  won't 
fail!" 


88 


VIII 

AT  GREENWICH 

From  the  earliest  morning  the  various  ways  leading 
to  the  course  on  Sir  Peter  Warren's  estate  in  Greenwich 
village  were  thronged  with  people,  and  especially  was 
that  true  of  the  road  from  the  south  that  lay  along  the 
water-side  and  crossed  Lispenard's  Meadows  and  Ma- 
netta  brook  on  a  raised  causeway.  The  river,  blue  as 
the  sky  above,  flowed  tranquilly  seawards ;  one  would 
almost  have  declared  it  slept,  for  the  still  air  scarcely 
rippled  its  surface — and  the  trees,  motionless  too, 
drowsed  in  the  brilliant  sunlight,  dreaming  those  lazy 
dreams  of  summer. 

Everywhere,  as  far  as  eye  could  see,  the  land  was  full 
of  fairness,  with  the  flash  of  little  streams  looping  back 
and  forth  amid  the  lush  green,  like  marvellous  silver 
embroidery,  jewelled  with  the  gleam  of  flowers  that 
brimmed  field  and  thicket  with  beauty.  The  air  was 
sweet  with  their  manifold  perfumes,  and  with  the  de- 
licious scent  of  the  blossoming  wild-grape.  Also  from 
the  grass,  from  the  banks  of  the  brooks,  from  the  shade 
of  the  woods,  luring  children  and  grown-folk  alike,  the 
strawberry  flashed  its  ripeness  in  the  sun — that  berry 
which  God  has  never  bettered — flavor,  hue,  fragrance 
forming  the  trinity  of  excellence. 

89 


God's  Puppets 


The  field,  at  the  approach  to  the  course,  hummed  with 
life.  It  was  a  tumult  of  sound,  a  vast  unceasing  med- 
ley— laughter,  chatter,  the  pounding  of  tomtoms,  the 
blowing  of  horns,  the  jangle  of  the  pieman's  bell,  the 
calls  of  chapmen  passing  hither  and  thither  with  their 
wares — '  A  new  love-song  only  half  a  penny/  '  Fans 
a-plenty  for  sweet-and-twenty ' — and,  mingling  with 
these,  the  strident  voice  declaiming :  '  Memorandum 
books  a  penny  a-piece  of  the  poor  blind — pity  the 
blind ! '  and  from  a  distant  corner,  like  the  buzzing  of 
angry  bees,  the  cries  of  the  bookmen  calling  out  bets 
on  the  run.  On  every  side,  booths  had  been  erected  for 
the  day  where  all  the  diversions  of  the  times  were  of- 
fered to  the  public,  the  attention  of  the  passer  attracted 
thereto  by  shrill  noises  ;  while  mountebanks,  tumblers, 
fortune-tellers,  vagrants  and  darting  children  added  to 
the  general  hurly-burly. 

Every  minute  saw  the  arrival  of  different  vehicles, 
and  parties  of  pleasure-seeking  on  horseback,  consist- 
ing of  men  and  women  of  fashion,  with  here  and  there 
a  scarlet-coated  officer;  grave  farmers  jogging  along, 
with  their  wives,  or  daughters,  seated  on  pillions  be- 
hind them,  made  their  entrance  to  the  enclosure  and  the 
humbler  folk,  who  had  tramped  it  all  the  way,  came 
blithely  forward.  It  was  a  shifting  motley.  The  peo- 
ple of  wealth  dressed  in  the  prevailing  court  styles  with 
the  gleam  of  many  a  jewel  and  buckle  to  outdazzle  the 
sun,  the  soberer  garb  of  the  merchants,  the  homespun 
of  the  farmer,  the  mechanics  and  artisans  in  their  leath- 
er-breeches and  aprons,  with  baize  vests  of  red,  or 
green,  the  multi-hued  gowns  of  the  poorer  women  and 
children,  and  the  livery  of  servants  offered  a  new  point 

90 


At  Greenwich 

of  color  at  every  turn.  Fashion,  beauty,  respectabil- 
ity, poverty,  vice  and  crime  elbowed  one  another  every- 
where ;  all  strands  in  the  great  web  of  life,  bright  and 
dun,  pure  and  stained,  they  crossed  and  recrossed  mak- 
ing up  the  day's  work. 

By  far  the  greater  number  of  those  who  had  ridden 
descended  from  coach,  or  chair,  to  stretch  their  limbs 
after  the  long  ride,  and  strolled  about  exchanging  greet- 
ings with  friends  and  acquaintances;  some  few,  how- 
ever, sought  the  course  immediately  where,  if  they  so 
wished,  they  might  remain  in  their  conveyances,  or  find 
places  on  the  benches  that  were  raised  at  one  side  of 
'the  race-track.  As  for  the  poorer  folk — the  older  and 
wiser  among  them  separated  into  little  groups  and  be- 
took themselves  to  some  eminence  overlooking  the 
grounds  that  would  enable  them  to  view  the  quarter- 
dashes  and  the  more  important  races,  without  the  ex- 
penditure of  the  sixpence  which  constituted  the  en- 
trance fee  for  every  one  save  the  riders,  or  owners  of 
the  running  horses.  But  the  majority  of  the  humbler 
class  lingered  to  gaze  openmouthed  at  the  fashion  of 
the  quality. 

As  they  stood  gaping,  the  sound  of  horses'  hoofs 
on  the  road  broke  in  upon  the  bustle  and,  turning,  rich 
and  poor  alike  recognized  Robert  Murray's  "  leathern 
conveniency,"  as  the  shrewd  Quaker  called  his  coach 
to  avoid  scandal  of  pride  and  vain-glory.  Following 
quickly  after  came  other  coaches — the  De  Peysters', 
with  their  outriders  and  postilions  in  blue  and  yellow, 
and  the  gilded  chariot  of  the  Livingstons,  with  the 
armorial  ship  emblazoned  on  its  doors,  drawn  by  four 
'snow-white  horses,  the  servants  in  gorgeous  livery. 


God's  Puppets 


The  crowd,  with  its  ready  knowledge,  whispered  the 
names  of  the  newcomers  so  that  the  murmurs  sounded 
almost  like  the  announcements  made  by  an  usher  at 
some  function  of  state.  In  that  way  was  heralded  the 
coming  of  Madam  Alexander  '  the  Queen  of  Petticoat 
Lane,'  and  also  the  owners  of  the  succeeding  coaches 
— the  people  guessing  by  the  burning  castle  of  Morris 
and  the  lance  of  the  De  Lanceys  to  whom  each  be- 
longed. 

His  Excellency  the  Governor — Sir  Charles  Hardy — 
arriving  with  his  suite  hard  upon  these  latter,  was  greet- 
ed with  hand-clappings  and  cheers.  It  was  one  of  his 
last  public  appearances,  but  his  hold  on  the  public  at- 
tention at  this  time  was  brief,  as  his  chariot  had  scarcely 
rolled  away  when  four  strong,  ugly  geldings  drawing 
a  cumbersome  coach  came  to  a  standstill  for  its  occu- 
pants to  alight.  The  vehicle  was  hung  on  great  straps, 
with  a  hammercloth  covering  the  coachman's  seat,  and 
its  doors  were  emblazoned  with  the  family  arms — a  pea- 
cock in  his  pride.  The  livery  of  the  outriders  and 
postilions  was  a  rich  purple  laced  with  silver,  with  tri- 
angular cocked  hats  trimmed  with  silver  lace.  The 
foot-boy,  hanging  by  the  tassels  behind,  was  clad  in 
similar  fashion,  save  that  he  wore  a  jockey  cap  of  Tur- 
key leather  with  silver  seams  and  bands.  The  lady 
within  lowered  her  black  velvet  riding-mask  and  showed 
a  peevish,  pretty  face  to  the  crowd,  who  looked  in  vain 
for  a  younger,  merrier  one  at  her  side,  to  whom  every 
man  and  woman  of  them  all  would  willingly  have  done 
homage.  The  persons  in  the  coach  were  three  in  num- 
ber, an  elderly  dame  de  compagnie,  Mrs.  Crewe  and 
her  chaplain-secretary — a  sleek,  rotund  little  man  with 

92 


At  Greenwich 

a  cast  in  his  shifting  gray  eyes  and  an  unctuous  expres- 
sion on  his  coarse,  purplish  lips. 

As  the  steps  were  let  down  by  the  eager  foot-boy, 
running  almost  to  the  point  of  self-annihilation  in  his 
efforts  to  serve  his  lady,  with  whom  celerity  alone  found 
favor,  Captain  Bellenden  detached  himself  from  a 
group  of  mounted  fellow-officers  and,  leaving  his  horse 
with  a  groom,  hastened  forward.  Quick  as  his  move- 
ments were,  however,  several  gentlemen  had  antici- 
pated him  and  the  widow  alighted  without  his  aid.  It 
was  perhaps  because  of  his  dilatoriness  that  she  chose 
to  greet  him  coldly,  or,  he  told  himself  as  he  moved 
back,  the  presence  of  Lord  Lofters  might  well  account 
for  any  fall  in  the  barometer  of  a  woman's  liking.  For 
Peggy  being  absent,  the  young  nobleman  was  prepared 
to  pay  court  to  her  mother,  not  as  '  the  mother '  as 
Mrs.  Crewe  took  excellent  care  to  avoid,  but  to  a 
woman  whose  ripened  charms  made  her  very  evident 
appreciation  of  his  society  doubly  alluring. 

Secretly  relieved  at  being  thus  exempt  from  dangling 
attendance  on  this  occasion,  when  his  inclinations  were 
all  with  the  racers,  Bellenden  turned  quickly  and,  be- 
fore he  could  be  recalled  to  her  side  by  any  reproachful 
glances,  screened  himself  behind  some  bushes.  Nor 
did  he  know  any  bitterness  because  other  men  were  pre- 
ferred to  himself.  He  was  glad  to  be  free  from  what 
had  become  an  irksome  duty  to  him — the  constant  wait- 
ing upon  a  vain,  silly  woman  who  presumed  upon  their 
relationship  to  demand  all  sorts  of  services  from  him, 
and  who  kept  him  at  her  beck  and  call.  The  real  lode- 
star in  all  his  visits  to  the  Crewes'  home — little  as  moth- 
er and  daughter  suspected  it — little  as  he  had  suspected 

93 


God's  Puppets 


it  himself  until  just  a  short  time  back,  was  the  girl  her- 
self. Peggy,  laughing,  radiant,  now  this,  now  that; 
the  trickiest  compound  of  fun,  mischief,  good-humor 
and  quick  temper  that  ever  bothered  a  man  and  filled 
his  waking  and  dreaming  hours  with  a  fascinating 
eidolon. 

He  waited  until  Mrs.  Crewe  with  her  train  of  admir- 
ers had  turned  to  the  course,  then  he  stepped  forth  war- 
ily and,  making  a  wide  circuit  to  avoid  detection, 
sought  the  paddock.  His  way  thither  was  beset  by 
many  hindrances,  chief  among  them  being  the  excite- 
ment occasioned  by  the  discovery  of  a  stolen  horse  with 
an  ill-looking  jockey  up,  who  had  entered  the  steed  ac- 
cording to  requirements  and  who,  possession  being  nine 
points  of  the  law,  refused  to  return  her  to  the  rightful 
owner  until  after  the  runs.  Such  crooked  proceedings 
to  recruit  the  field  and  to  keep  up  the  interest  in  racing 
were  not  infrequent  and  similar  instances  had  occurred 
at  Hempstead  and  also  on  the  Church  Farm  course  the 
previous  year. 

"  'E  aint  proved  the  'oss  is  'is,"  the  jockey  maintained 
in  aggrieved  tones  as  Bellenden  paused  on  the  outskirts 
of  the  crowd.  "  Jes'  becos  she  looks  like  'is  mare  aint 
no  reel  proof.  My  brother  an'  me  are  breathin'  himages 
of  heach  other,  but  we  aint  the  same  men.  Lord  love 
ye,  gemmen,  I've  entered  this  'oss  fair  an'  square  an' 
ride  'er  I  will.  Mebbe  when  the  party  gets  back  to 
Rose  'ill  to-night  'is  proputty  '11  be  there  before  'im,  an' 
then  'e'll  take  shame  to  'isself  for  haccusin'  one  as  hin- 
nercent  as  the  babe  unborn " 

Bellenden  passed  on  leaving  the  altercation  to  work 
out  its  own  end.  Before  he  sought  the  course  he  want- 

94 


At  Greenwich 

ed  to  have  a  look  at  Touchstone  and,  if  possible,  a  word 
with  Larry  whom  he  had  not  seen  for  several  days  as 
he,  himself,  had  but  just  returned  from  a  short  stay  in 
Philadelphia.  On  his  arrival  in  town  he  had  found  that 
the  bets  on  Touchstone,  that  had  been  unusually  high 
when  he  left,  were  going  begging.  He  had  quickly  put 
himself  in  possession  of  all  the  details  of  the  change. 
The  news  of  Sandy's  accident  had  spread  like  wildfire 
everywhere  and  there  had  followed  a  thousand  contra- 
dictions hard  upon.  Touchstone  would  not  run, 
Touchstone  would  run,  the  backers  of  the  horse  were 
in  a  state  bordering  upon  frenzy ;  then  came  the  assur- 
ance that  Crewe  had  no  intention  of  withdrawal  and 
that  an  under-groom  would  take  Sandy's  place.  After 
that  the  excitement  had  subsided  somewhat,  but,  as  if 
the  jockey's  ill-luck  had  spread  to  the  horse,  people 
looked  askance  at  the  whilom  favorite  and  many  of 
the  former  bets  on  him  were  cried  off. 

Bellenden  ground  his  teeth  in  rage  as  he  threaded  his 
way  in  and  out  among  men  and  horses,  looking  appreci- 
atively at  the  latter  and  taking  in  good  and  bad  points 
at  a  glance.  He  paused  for  a  moment  near  American 
Childers  and  studied  him  with  regretful  eyes.  In  him 
he  thought  he  saw  the  winner  and  yet,  as  he  had 
watched  Touchstone  day  after  day  in  his  cousin's  pad- 
dock under  Sandy's  manoeuvres,  he  had  felt  with  a  thrill 
that  the  splendid  creature  well  deserved  Larry's  en- 
comiums and  no  other  horse  in  York  Colony — if  any- 
where— was  his  equal.  He  prided  himself  upon  his 
knowledge  of  horseflesh  and  knew  that  partiality  had 
not  led  him  astray  in  his  estimate  of  the  chestnut's  qual- 
ities. Touchstone  with  Sandy  up,  Sandy  who  had  rid- 

95 


God's  Puppets 


den  him  twice  to  victory  in  the  only  races  the  horse  had 
ever  run,  was  sure  to  win,  but  Touchstone  at  the  mercy 
of  a  strange  rider,  one  who  did  not  know  and  appreciate 
his  manifold  vagaries,  was  defeated  almost  at  the  out- 
set. It  was  impossible  to  think  otherwise — a  man 
would  be  a  fool  to  imperil  any  money  on  such  a  chance. 

A  prey  to  these  thoughts  Bellenden  continued  his 
search  for  Larry  and  finally  discovered  him  in  the  cen- 
tre of  a  noisy  group  of  beaus  and  officers.  The  young 
fellow,  usually  so  fastidious  in  his  dress,  had  apparently 
paid  but  scant  attention  to  it  this  day,  his  laced  ruffles 
were  tumbled,  his  coat  unbrushed,  and  the  only  evi- 
dence— which  marked  the  occasion  from  the  ordinary 
— was  the  enormous  bunch  of  purple  ribbons  on  his  left 
breast.  He  stood  with  his  feet  far  apart  swaying  back 
and  forwards  and,  as  he  talked  in  high,  boisterous  tones, 
he  whipped  the  air  with  a  small  cane  guided  by  an  un- 
steady hand. 

"  Drunk,  the  young  fool ! "  Bellenden  muttered  dis- 
dainfully to  himself,  as  he  noted  all  this  from  a  dis- 
tance. 

But  Larry  was  not  drunk,  as  the  older  man  was 
speedily  convinced.  He  was  simply  unstrung  with  ex- 
citement; his  face  was  haggard  and  drawn — he  looked 
double  his  age — and  his  eyes  were  feverishly  bright. 
He  was  betting  at  fearful  odds  as  his  cousin  joined  the 
group,  and  his  wagers  were  snapped  up  eagerly  amid 
shouts  and  roars  of  laughter ;  some  of  his  companions, 
taking  advantage  of  his  reckless  frame  of  mind,  egged 
him  on  shamelessly. 

"  Larry,  a  word  with  you,"  Bellenden  said  shortly. 
Then,  when  the  two  had  withdrawn  to  a  little  distance, 

96 


At  Greenwich 

he  put  his  hand  on  the  young  fellow's  shoulder.  "  Man 
alive,"  he  exclaimed,  "  you  don't  know  what  you're 
about  and  that's  the  truth.  If  victory  is  yours  it's  all 
right,  but  if  it's  defeat — what  then? " 

"  Oh !  I'll  go  break  stones  or — or — something,"  the 
other  groaned.  "  But  Touchstone  will  beat  'em  yet,"  he 
added  fatuously. 

"  I  believe  in  a  man's  backing  his  own  of  course ;  'tis 
the  only  thing  to  do.  But  you've  made  an  infernal  mess 
of  it.  When  you  found  it  was  all  up  with  Sandy  you 
should  have  withdrawn  from  the  race  and  given  us  the 
chance  to  put  our  money  elsewhere " 

"  I'll  take  up  whatever  bets  you  have  out  on  Touch- 
stone, Captain  Bellenden,"  Larry  interposed  magnifi- 
cently. "  'Twas  not  to  favor  me  that  you  backed  my 
horse." 

"  No,  you  young  gaby,  it  was  to  favor  myself,  I 
well  know  that.  I  don't  bet  on  a  man's  horse  because 
the  man  happens  to  be  my  cousin.  There's  no  thought 
of  kinship  in  racing.  It's  the  best  horse,  or  the  one  I 
consider  the  best,  that  carries  my  money.  I'd  have 
staked  ten  thousand,  if  I'd  had  it,  on  Touchstone  when 
Sandy  was  there  to  put  him  through,  but  now  a  shilling 
is  too  much  to  venture  with  this  other  fellow  up,  I  don't 
care  how  well  he  rides.  Touchstone's  no  common  hack 
to  be  taken  in  hand  by  any  new-comer — a  groom,  you've 
picked  up  from  the  Lord  knows  where." 

"  He's  a  good  groom,  let  me  tell  you  that,  sir.  I'd 
back  his  riding  against  the  best ;  I've  known  him  all  my 
life " 

"  They  told  me  he  was  just  out  from  England." 

"  Yes — yes — so  he  is — a  lad  from  England,  that's 
97 


God's  Puppets 


true  enough,"  Larry  stammered.  "  'Sdeath !  aint  we  all 
English  when  you  come  to  think  of  it?"  he  finished 
with  an  unsteady  laugh. 

Bellenden  shot  an  angry  glance  at  the  excited  face 
and  turned  away  with  an  oath.  He  was  up  to  his  ears 
in  debts  and  this  last  extravagance  was  like  to  cost  him 
dear.  He  had  hoped — as  Larry  had  hoped — to  recoup 
himself  on  this  race,  and  now  the  only  thing  left  for 
him  would  be  to  leave  the  army  and  join  his  cousin  in 
breaking  stones.  He  walked  quickly  over  to  the  fur- 
thermost corner  of  the  paddock  where  his  roving  eyes 
had  discovered  Touchstone,  apart  from  the  other  rac- 
ers, in  company  with  two  grooms,  Greene  at  the  bridle 
and  the  jockey  in  the  saddle. 

Despite  himself,  he  could  hardly  suppress  a  groan  as 
he  neared  the  group  and  noted  afresh  the  splendid  pose 
of  the  animal  with  force  and  energy  manifest  in  every 
line  of  his  body,  in  the  expression  of  his  countenance 
and  the  lofty  toss  of  his  head.  A  chestnut  horse  with 
a  white  blaze  up  his  face,  and  his  off -leg  white  from  the 
hock  downwards.  In  stature  he  was  a  fraction  over 
fifteen  hands,  of  a  neat,  elegant  appearance ;  the  head 
light,  lean  and  well  set  on,  the  forehead  broad  and  flat, 
the  eyes  luminous,  the  nostrils  large  and  dilating,  the 
muzzle  fine  and  the  limbs  supple  and  perfect.  The 
blood  of  Arab  stock  was  expressed  in  the  thin,  high 
crest  of  the  glossy  neck  with  its  prominent  veins ;  the 
mane  and  tail  fell  full  and  silky.  And  this  gorgeous 
creature  was  bestrid  by  a  slouchy  looking  lad  bunched 
forward  in  his  saddle,  his  shoulders  drooping  dejected- 
ly, his  chin  fallen  in  the  manner  of  an  idiot's.  A  boy, 
as  Bellenden  discovered  on  a  closer  approach,  with  a 

98 


At  Greenwich 

tanned,  sullen  face  that  showed  small  beneath  a  shock 
of  yellowish  hair,  a  face  devoid  alike  of  fear,  or  con- 
fidence, with  indifferent,  half -opened  eyes  gazing  stol- 
idly before  him.  Never  had  the  Crewe  colors  been 
seen  to  such  disadvantage !  The  jockey  cap  was  pulled 
far  down  over  the  boy's  brows  and  the  peak  cast  a  deep 
shadow  over  his  countenance;  for  the  rest,  he  was 
dressed  in  a  loose,  purple  shirt  with  full  trousers  and 
high  leather  boots. 

Bellenden  surveyed  him  disdainfully,  but  the  boy  did 
not  turn  his  eyes  nor  seem  to  notice  the  new-comer, 
though  a  tinge  of  red  deepened  in  his  face  as  if,  in  his 
dull  fashion,  he  resented  the  disparaging  scrutiny  to 
which  he  was  subjected.  He  was  holding  the  reins 
loosely,  for  Greene  was  at  the  horse's  head,  but  sud- 
denly his  fingers  tightened  upon  them  and,  with  the  un- 
expected strain,  Touchstone  began  to  curvet  wildly. 

"  Best  let  'im  go,"  Greene  cried,  suiting  the  action  to 
the  word  and  scrambling  to  one  side.  "  Look  lively 
there,  Capting  Bellenden." 

The  captain  started  back,  then,  with  a  quick  turn  of 
his  wrist,  he  caught  the  bridle  dexterously ;  he  was  ab- 
solutely without  fear  and,  in  this  instance,  it  infuriated 
him  to  see  Touchstone  mismanaged  as  he  thought.  The 
horse  chafed  and  reared  at  the  touch  of  his  hand  and 
cast  it  off  impatiently,  but  the  jockey,  apparently  un- 
concerned and  thoroughly  master  of  his  mount,  brought 
the  frightened  creature  into  quick  subjection. 

"Where's  your  whip,  sir?"  Bellenden  demanded 
sternly  when  the  horse  came  to  a  standstill,  quivering 
in  every  nerve  but  conquered  by  that  slight,  impassive 
figure. 

99 


God's  Puppets 


"  Lord  love  ye,  sir,  no  one  aint  ever  used  a  whip  on 
Touchstone,"  Greene  interposed. 

"  Do  you  carry  no  whip  with  you  into  this  race  ?  " 
Bellenden  repeated  the  question  twice. 

"  No-a,"  the  jockey  drawled,  without  turning  his 
head. 

"  Have  you  ever  raced  before  ?  " 

"  Nigh  abaout  fifty  toimes,  mester." 

"  Fifty  times — you  young  liar !  What  part  of  Eng- 
land do  you  come  from  ?  " 

"  From  Yorkshire." 

"  Do  they  breed  anything  else  there  besides  fools  ?  " 

"  All  t'  fools  'at  coome  out  o'  England  baint  bred  in 
oor  plaice,  though  theer  be  soam  theer  too,  soa's  when 
they  start  out  into  t'  warld  they  won't  feel  lonesome- 
like  lackin'  coompany." 

Bellenden  glanced  sharply  at  the  stolid  face  above 
him  to  see  if  there  was  aught  of  design  in  its  owner's 
speech.  Save  for  the  persistent  flush  beneath  the  heavy 
coat  of  tan  the  countenance  was  unchanged,  dull  and 
spiritless  and  averted  somewhat  from  his  gaze.  The 
boy  seemed  utterly  indifferent ;  but  again  there  was  that 
nervous  twitching  on  the  reins,  as  if  the  only  life  he 
felt  was  centred  in  his  finger-tips.  Bellenden,  smart- 
ing with  a  sense  of  helpless  rage — which  included  all 
mankind  and  especially  the  jockey  before  him — and 
suspicious  of,  he  knew  not  what,  looked  angrily  at  the 
shaking  hands,  then  with  sharpened  vision  he  looked 
again.  Such  hands  as  they  were !  Small,  brown,  deli- 
cately formed  with  long  slender  fingers,  flexible  and 
firmly  grasping,  that  bespoke  both  refinement  and  force. 
Hands  darker  in  color,  but  in  shape  the  same  that  the 

100 


At  Greenwich 

old  painters  loved  to  put  into  their  pictures  of  high- 
born dames,  and  not  of  stable-boys.  He  moved  nearer, 
trembling  on  the  brink  of  discovery. 

"  By  heavens !  you  shall  not  ride,"  he  cried  between 
his  closed  teeth. 

For  a  moment  the  jockey's  eyes  met  his,  were  forced 
to  his  by  his  will  and  held  there  as,  in  a  lightning's 
flash,  he  read  the  defiance,  the  shame,  the  pleading,  in 
their  brown  depths.  He  was  more  than  sure. 

"  You  shall  not " 

A  hoarse  cry  went  up  all  over  the  paddock.  The 
hour  had  come.  Touchstone,  quivering  like  a  dog  held 
in  leash,  pawed  the  ground  impatiently;  then,  in  re- 
sponse to  the  touch  on  the  reins,  he  bounded  forward 
and  joined  the  throng. 


101 


IX 


Two  heats  had  been  run  with  Touchstone  winner  of 
the  first,  and  American  Childers  of  the  second;  the 
third  and  most  important  was  still  to  run.  The  best  of 
two  out  of  three  heats  was  to  be  the  winner,  provided 
the  said  horse  was  not  distanced  in  the  third  heat — the 
distance-post  being  a  furlong  beyond  the  winning-post. 
Such  were  the  conditions  of  the  race. 

Forward  they  charged  in  a  great  bunch;  the  cry 
"  They're  off !  "  beating  up  from  the  enclosure  and 
echoing  on  every  side.  The  thunder  of  many  hoofs 
pounded  on  the  turf,  and  the  different  colors — blue, 
green,  red,  purple,  orange,  flashed  in  the  sun  like  brill- 
iant-hued  birds  as  horses  and  riders  swept  by. 

The  crucial  moment  had  arrived.  It  was  now  or 
never  with  Touchstone,  so  Peggy  felt,  as,  quivering 
with  fatigue  and  excitement,  she  flew  onward  with  the 
rest.  The  blood  tingled  in  her  veins;  her  heart  was 
like  a  smith's  hammer — thump — thump — thump— 
Could  she  do  it  ? — her  lips  were  a  line  of  scarlet — could 
she  do  it  ?  One  by  one  the  lesser  rivals  gave  way,  drop- 
ping behind.  Pouf !  let  them  go.  Vanity  stumbled 
and  went  down,  horse  and  rider  an  inextricable  mass ; 
but  surging  past  them — unimpeded  in  their  mad  rush 
— Lath,  American  Childers  and  Touchstone  raced, 

102 


A  Little  Lad  from  Home 

eager  for  the  supremacy.  So  for  a  few  minutes  they 
ran  abreast  with  never  a  hair-breadth  of  advantage  to 
choose  among  them,  then  Lath,  covered  with  clots  of 
foam  that  whitened  his  knots  of  blue  and  silver,  wav- 
ered perceptibly  and  fell  to  the  rear.  The  distance  be- 
tween him  and  the  other  two  increased  momentarily. 
The  beginning  of  the  end  was  at  hand. 

The  crowd  shouted  madly  as  the  two  horses  went 
thundering  past  on  the  long  reach  of  the  home-stretch, 
Touchstone  a  neck  to  the  fore.  The  sound  was  music 
in  the  girl's  ears,  she  was  drunk  with  it;  her  head 
swayed,  her  eyes  swam.  She  had  outdistanced  the 
field,  outdistanced  them  all,  Vanity,  Lath,  Childers — 
the  others  didn't  count.  She  relaxed  her  vigilance  for 
a  moment  and  lost  command  of  herself,  her  mouth  curv- 
ing into  a  smile ;  content  wrapped  her  round  dulling  her 
senses.  She  had  outdistanced  the  field !  The  thought 
beat  in  her  breast,  throbbed  in  her  pulses  and  found 
vent  in  the  shouts  of  the  onlookers  and  the  dumb  echoes 
in  her  own  heart. 

Steadily,  surely,  the  nozzle  of  the  bay  crept  up  past 
the  mottled  head  of  the  chestnut,  and  a  whip  flashed, 
like  a  streak  of  light,  in  the  blue  as  the  jockey  cut  at 
Childers'  quivering  flank — Peggy  could  hear  it  singing 
— singing —  The  horse  leapt  forward,  his  rider  a  blur 
of  red  and  gold,  and  instantly  a  roar  went  up — a  great, 
sickening  roar!  The  air  was  rent  with  cheers  and 
hand-clappings,  a  wild  tossing  aloft  of  hats,  the  flut- 
ter of  innumerable  handkerchiefs,  laughter,  screams — 
a  tumult  of  noise. 

"  Childers !     Childers !     Childers !  " 

The  course  grew  dark  then  before  the  girl's  eyes. 
103 


God's  Puppets 


She  could  not  see  the  winning-post  in  the  near  distance, 
she  could  see  nothing  but  the  great  bay  forging  unwav- 
eringly ahead,  his  form  looming,  like  some  huge  mon- 
ster, between  her  and  success,  blotting  out  even  the  sky 
itself.  Her  courage  flickered.  For  one  moment — it 
seemed  like  an  eternity — despair  touched  her.  Help- 
less, beaten,  Larry's  cause  lost,  her  own  name  dragged 
deep  in  the  mire,  the  scorn  and  laughter  of  her  cousin 
— these  thoughts  passed  like  wildfire  through  her  mind, 
the  last  a  lash  to  rouse  her  drooping  spirits.  She  would 
not  fail — would  not!  Her  will  was  iron  again.  The 
mist  cleared  from  before  her  vision. 

"  Touchstone,"  she  cried  imperiously,  "  run — run  for 
my  sake !  run  as  you've  never  done  before." 

The  short,  pricked  ears  were  thrown  backward  for 
an  instant  at  the  sound  of  the  beloved  voice  sharp  with 
its  affection  and  entreaty,  then  eyes,  ears,  nose  forward 
the  horse,  in  response  to  the  command  laid  upon  him, 
redoubled  his  energies.  She  gave  him  the  rein. 

"  So— so !  "  she  crooned.  "  Well  done,  old  fellow, 
well  done!  Hark!  'tis  Peggy  speaking — the  Crewe 
colors  and  victory,  lad — the  purple  for  success!  It 
shall  not  bite  the  dust." 

She  seemed  to  flash  her  will  along  the  rein ;  the  thrill 
of  her  confident  spirit  passed  into  his  frame  like  new 
life.  She  touched  his  neck,  where  the  big  veins  swelled, 
with  a  caressing  hand  for  the  fleetest  of  moments. 

"  For  my  sake — for  my  sake — "  she  implored. 

Steadily,  surely,  inch  by  inch  they  gained  on  the  fly- 
ing steed  in  front.  Up  to  him — even — shoulder  to 
shoulder!  Peggy  sat  perfectly  motionless,  crouched 
low  over  the  withers  of  her  horse;  she  knew  that 

104 


A  Little  Lad  from  Home 

Touchstone  had  understood  her  and  was  making  his 
last,  his  best  effort.  She  hardly  breathed. 

Again  there  came  the  swift  singing  of  the  whip  and 
the  maddened,  forward  leap  of  the  animal  at  her  side. 
An  instant  the  advantage  was  his,  then  she  felt  his 
breath  hot  upon  her  cheek  as  she  flew  past.  On— on — 
a  neck's  length  ahead,  now  another,  now  a  full  length 
—on  —  past  the  winning-post  —  past  the  distance- 
post 

"  Huzza !  Huzza !  Touchstone  wins — Crewe  has  it 
— Crewe  has  it !  " 

The  paddock  was  a-roar  with  a  mob  of  shrieking  men 
and  boys ;  she  let  the  reins  slip  through  her  fingers  at 
sight  of  Greene  hurrying  up.  His  glowing  face,  with  its 
expression  of  mingled  ecstasy  and  reverence,  loomed 
large  and  almost  comical  to  her  through  the  mist  that 
seemed  to  envelop  earth  and  sky.  The  game  was  not 
yet  played  out,  but  she  was  so  tired — she  must  have  a 
care ! — he  had  no  right  to  look  so— so — abjectly  hum- 
ble— he  seemed  to  forget,  she  told  herself  querulously. 
And  everything  was  racing  past;  as  if  men  and  boys 
and  horses  were  engaged  in  some  vast  trial  of  speed. 
Her  hands  shook,  twitching  at  the  reins  and  Touch- 
stone swerved  sharply  to  one  side ;  as  sure-footed,  usu- 
ally, as  the  antelope  in  rocky  defiles,  he  stumbled  over  a 
fallen  log  that  lay  in  his  path  and  unseated  the  jockey 
already  trembling  in  the  saddle.  The  horse  was  on  his 
feet  in  a  trice,  but  the  rider  lay  motionless. 

Greene  was  at  the  bridle  almost  instantly  with  reas- 
suring words  to  soothe  the  frightened,  high-strung 
animal,  while  the  surging  crowd,  that  a  minute  before 

105 


God's  Puppets 


had  been  crowding  around  the  victors,  fell  back ;  each 
man  actuated  by  a  deep  respect  for  Touchstone's  heels. 
Larry,  who  had  been  hurrying  up  to  congratulate  his 
successful  jockey,  had  witnessed  the  scene  from  a  short 
distance  and  stood  transfixed  with  horror  to  the  spot; 
his  face  blanched  to  a  ghastly  hue. 

"  My  God !  "  he  cried  in  shaking  syllables. 

"  Have  a  care,  you  don't  want  the  world  to  know." 
The  whisper  steadied  him.  "  Come  on,"  Bellenden 
commanded. 

The  next  minute  the  two  men  were  bending  over  the 
prostrate  form  and  the  crowd,  appeased  by  the  sight  of 
Touchstone  being  led  away,  pressed  close  upon  them. 

"  My  God !  Jack,"  Larry  cried  tremulously,  "  she's 
dead." 

"  Be  still,  or  spoil  all  for  a  fool !  She's  not  dead, 
she's  swooned — that's  all,"  Bellenden  answered  between 
his  teeth.  "  We  must  get  her  away  from  this.  Damn 
those  curs  for  their  curiosity,  the  game's  up!  Give 
back,  gentlemen,"  he  called  authoritatively,  "  the  boy 
is  coming  to." 

He  raised  the  limp  figure  partially  in  his  arms  as  he 
spoke,  intercepting  his  own  form  between  it  and  the 
onlookers.  The  dark  eyes  flew  open. 

"  Well  done,  Diccory,  well  done,  boy !  'Twill  be  a 
proud  day  at  home  when  they  hear  how  the  little  lad 
rode  to  victory." 

His  bluff  voice  steadied  her,  and  the  expression  of 
his  face  warned  her  to  keep  guard  over  herself.  She 
had  a  dim  perception  of  a  sea  of  people  staring  at  her 
over  his  shoulder. 

"  Oh ! — mester — Jack — "  It  was  only  a  whisper,  but 
106 


A  Little  Lad  from  Home 

it  convinced  him  that  she  still  had  control  of  the  situa- 
tion. 

"  Are  you  hurt  much,  lad  ?  " 

"  Nowt  but  a  stiff  arm,  I'm  thinkin'.  Is  that  Mester 
Larry?  Doan't  be  a  foo!2  sir,  I  bain't  killed,"  the  voice 
was  weak,  but  it  carried.  "  Larry,"  she  went  on  vic- 
iously, though  so  low  that  only  her  brother  and  cousin 
heard,  "  if  you  look  like  that  I'll — I'll — I  don't  know 
what  I'll  do — scream,  or  play  the  woman  to  my  un- 
doing." 

"  Naught  but  a  sprained  arm,  Dick  lad,"  Bellenden 
continued  in  a  loud,  cheerful  tone,  "  come,  come,  the 
pain  will  soon  be  over.  Has  any  gentleman  a  chaise 
we  can  hire,"  he  called  over  his  shoulder,  "  so  we  can 
get  the  boy  back  to  town  and  have  his  bruises  dressed  ?  " 

Several  proffers  were  made,  and,  at  the  same  time,  a 
case  bottle  of  rum  was  passed  from  hand  to  hand  until 
it  reached  Bellenden.  He  took  it  gratefully. 

"  Take  a  pull  at  this,  lad,"  he  said,  stooping  down. 

She  turned  her  head  close  against  his  arm,  mutiny 
in  her  eyes. 

"  Drink  it,"  he  commanded  sternly,  and  held  the  flask 
to  her  lips  until  she  was  forced  to  swallow  some  of  its 
contents,  then  she  took  refuge  once  more  against  his 
sleeve. 

"  So,  that's  good.  Now  the  question  is,  can  you 
walk?  Or  stay,  I'd  best  carry  you;  'tis  but  a  step. 
What?  Rather  walk— eh?  Well,  try  your  mettle 
then." 

He  lifted  her  gently  to  her  feet,  but  he  did  not  let 
her  stand  alone,  and  she  was  glad  enough  to  feel  the 
support  of  his  arm  around  her  shoulders  as  they  moved 

107 


God's  Puppets 


slowly  off,  with  Larry  walking  close  on  her  other  side 
and  part  of  the  crowd  following  curiously.  After  a 
few  steps  she  murmured  something  and  Bellenden 
stooped  to  catch  the  words. 

"  Is  my  wig  straight  ?  " 

"  It's  all  awry,  but  no  one  will  mark  that.  Best  put 
your  head  closer  against  my  arm  to  make  sure.  That's 
right!  Keep  up  courage,  Diccon  boy." 

As  they  neared  the  chaise  he  saw,  by  the  moving  of 
her  lips,  that  she  wished  to  say  something  further.  He 
bent  again. 

"  Larry's  such  a  fool !  and  I — I  can't  think — you  must 
decide  for  us,"  the  proud  eyes  were  persistently  low- 
ered. "  The  cottage  here  is  out  of  the  question,  my 
woman's  as  true  as  steel,  but  Mrs.  Masher — the  house- 
keeper— clatters  outrageously.  I  can't  go  home — you 
know — my  mother,  and  besides  the  servants  would  talk. 
And  the  doctor — not  Evans,  remember!  he's  such  a 
gossip,  and  Dr.  Bard's  as  bad — he'd  tell  for  the  sake  of 
the  jest.  I  won't  go  home.  Oh !  help  me,  do." 

He  felt  the  blood  quicken  in  his  veins.  She  was  su- 
ing to  him,  in  her  weakness  it  was  true,  but  he  knew 
that  she  felt  there  was  no  one  on  whose  presence  of 
mind  she  would  so  readily  rely.  He  kept  his  voice 
steady. 

"  Don't  worry,  but  trust  me,"  he  said  reassuringly, 
and  a  sudden  thrill  of  elation  passed  through  him  as 
she  submitted,  without  a  further  word,  to  his  will. 

The  confidence  of  a  creature  like  that  was  something 
to  win — and  the  love?  He  put  the  thought  by  for  a 
less  strenuous  hour.  His  wits  must  serve  her  now. 
Then  the  remembrance  of  Domine  Ryerssen's  placid 

108 


A  Little  Lad  from  Home 

home  came  unevoked  to  his  mind.  The  little  gate,  that 
had  swung  open  so  many  times  of  late,  should  afford 
her  entrance  in  this  extremity  and  Annetje  would  be 
there  to  minister  to  her  needs.  It  was  a  safe  asylum 
well  removed  from  the  gossip  of  the  fashionable  world, 
and  he  was  sure  it  would  not  be  denied  to  them.  Their 
course  was  crystal  clear. 

With  Larry's  aid  he  lifted  the  girl  into  the  carriage 
and  busied  himself  with  efforts  to  make  her  comfort- 
able. Her  eyes  were  still  lowered,  but  the  quick  flush 
that  mounted  to  her  face  at  his  touch  was  like  a  little 
light  to  show  him  her  awakening  consciousness  of  the 
changed  relations  between  them. 

She  glanced  up  momentarily  as  her  brother  took  his 
place  by  her  side^  glanced  beyond  him  to  Bellenden 
standing  without,  whispering  some  final  instructions. 

"  You — "  her  voice  was  very  faint. 

"  I'll  be  waiting  for  you  at  the  end  of  your  journey. 
Keep  up  courage." 

Her  eyes  fell  before  the  look  in  his ;  she  made  a  little 
clutch  for  her  waning  sovereignty. 

"  And  mamma  ?  "  she  murmured. 

"  Drive  on,  Larry,"  Bellenden  said  shortly. 


109 


A  FRIENDLY  ASYLUM 

What  Cotton  Mather  called  "  the  angelical  conjunc- 
tion "  of  piety  and  physic  was  occasionally  found  in  the 
person  of  the  ministers  of  the  Dutch  Reformed  Church, 
and  though  New  York,  at  this  period,  was  said  to  boast 
the  honor  of  above  forty  gentlemen  of  the  medical 
faculty  (many  of  them  being  set  down  as  mere  pre- 
tenders to  a  profession  of  which  they  were  entirely 
ignorant),  Domine  Ryerssen  had  often  been  called 
upon  to  assist  his  parishioners  in  other  than  their  spir- 
itual needs.  The  law  protecting  the  community  from 
irregular  practitioners — quacks  and  charlatans,  who 
abounded  like  the  locusts  in  Egypt — had  not  yet  come 
into  being,  but  even  had  it  been  in  force  the  domine 
would  not  have  been  restricted  from  practising.  He 
would  easily  have  passed  the  examination  to  which,  a 
few  years  later,  the  candidates  were  subjected  to  prove 
their  learning  and  skill  in  physic  or  surgery,  as  in  his 
youth  he  had  studied  medicine,  considering  it  a  neces- 
sary supplement  to  his  theological  career,  especially  in 
the  new  world  whither  he  was  bound. 

As  a  younger  man  he  had  found  this  knowledge  in- 
valuable particularly  among  the  poor  of  his  own  tongue, 
who  could  not  meet  the  fees  of  the  established  physi- 
cians, and  the  needy  of  other  nationalities  whom  dis- 


A  Friendly  Asylum 

tress  brought  to  his  door.  That  his  skill  was  not 
deemed  insufficient  it  is  enough  to  say  that  Dr.  Van 
Buren  always  spoke  of  him  in  terms  of  the  highest  con- 
sideration, an  opinion  which  Dr.  Du  Bois  shared  also ; 
nor  would  those  gentlemen  have  felt  it  beneath  their 
dignity  to  act  in  conjunction  with  him  had  occasion 
demanded.  Their  sphere  of  usefulness,  however,  was 
not  encroached  upon  by  his  humbler  efforts.  As  he 
said  of  himself  he  only  helped  when  better  and  wiser 
men  were  busy  elsewhere ;  when  they  took  the  helm  he 
slipped  quietly  back  to  his  books.  Of  those  other,  and 
poorer,  sufferers  whose  thanks  were  the  only  payment 
offered  to  him — whether  they  were  few,  or  many,  the 
outside  world  did  not  know.  But  the  Garden  Street 
church  had  this  to  say  of  him,  that  the  summer  of  his 
wife's  death  there  was  no  more  tireless  physician  in  the 
length  and  breadth  of  the  town ;  despite  the  grief  that 
lay  black  upon  his  own  hearthstone  he  carried  comfort 
into  many  households,  the  comfort  of  religion  and  the 
alleviation  of  physical  pain.  Of  late  years  it  was  only 
in  the  capacity  of  minister  that  he  visited  his  parish- 
ioners, his  age  exempted  him  from  other  demands; 
though  they  knew  that,  in  times  of  great  stress,  he 
would  be  ready  to  serve  them  again. 

Jack  Bellenden's  one  thought  in  sending  Peggy  to  the 
parsonage  had  been  that  it  would  prove  a  safe  hiding- 
place  for  her,  until  she  could  return  to  her  own  home 
without  awakening  the  suspicions  of  her  friends  and 
acquaintances.  He  had  expected  to  find  some  physi- 
cian to  attend  her  there,  but  as  he  galloped  down  the 
Broadway  the  remembrance  of  the  old  domine's  medi- 
cal ability  flashed  through  his  mind.  The  whole  mat- 

III 


God's  Puppets 


ter  seemed  instantly  simplified  as  by  a  providential 
intervention,  and  the  danger  he  dreaded  might  there- 
fore be  averted.  He  was  not  sure  that  the  girl's  dis- 
guise had  passed  muster  everywhere;  Larry's  barely 
concealed  anxiety  was  a  damaging  factor  and  if  it 
should  creep  out  through  the  doctor's  gossip,  or  be 
known  that  she  was  in  hiding,  or  had  returned  to  her 
mother's  house  so  shortly  after  her  departure  for  Al- 
bany, the  whole  town  would  be  agog  with  her  mad 
prank.  It  had  been  worse  than  mad.  She  had  carried 
her  design  to  a  successful  issue,  but  it  had  been  at  fear- 
ful risks. 

Bellenden  bit  his  lips  as  he  passed  in  mental  review 
his  own  feelings  when  the  race  was  on.  He  had  been 
sick  with  suspense  from  start  to  finish.  It  had  meant 
nothing  to  him  whether  he  should  lose,  or  win  the 
money  he  had  on  Touchstone ;  he  would  willingly  have 
lost  a  hundred  fortunes  had  they  been  his  to  prevent 
Peggy  from  riding.  When  the  horses  had  streaked  by, 
though  the  crowd  saw  but  an  indifferent-looking  jockey 
on  Crewe's  mount,  he  was  able  to  penetrate  through  the 
disguise ;  the  tanned  face,  under  the  purple  cap  and  the 
coarse  shock  of  hair,  which  the  spectators  greeted  with 
deafening  cheers,  was  an  arch,  sparkling  one  to  him. 
And  a  misstep  on  Touchstone's  part,  a  swerve  aside, 
would  reduce  that  beauty  to  nothingness.  His  rider 
would  be  crushed,  killed,  perhaps,  in  the  stampede  of 
rushing  horses,  or  maimed  so  cruelly  that  her  stay  in 
the  world  which  she  loved  so  keenly  would  be  a  mock- 
ery and  a  constant  pain.  It  was  a  girl's  life  held  sway- 
ing in  the  balance — a  little,  soft  life,  something  to  be 
protected — cherished — and  yet  it  was  placed  on  the 

112 


A  Friendly  Asylum 

mercy  of  a  hazard  with  no  thought  of  its  great  value. 
Above  the  roar  of  the  crowd  he  could  hear  the  sound 
of  her  merry  voice  ringing  in  his  ears,  now  twitting 
him,  now  singing,  now  flouting  him,  and  any  moment 
it  might  be  silenced  forever ! 

He  hardly  heeded  the  fact  when  the  Crewe  colors 
were  victorious;  victory,  or  defeat,  meant  nothing  to 
him;  he  only  desired  her  safety.  While  the  others 
shouted  frantically  around  him  he  remained  silent, 
stilled,  by  gratitude,  into  the  momentary  mood  of 
prayer.  Then  he  hurried  to  the  paddock  to  guard  her 
from  the  enthusiasm  of  the  crowd;  he  doubted  her 
power  to  meet  it  in  the  right  spirit  without  exposing 
her  sex  and  he  had  been  just  in  time  to  save  her,  though 
in  a  different  fashion  from  what  he  had  purposed. 
Larry,  reduced  to  shuddering  uselessness,  had  been  the 
most  ineffectual  shield  between  her  and  the  gaping  pub- 
lic, but  he  had  been  able  to  protect  her  from  carping 
tongues.  He  had  held  calumny,  reproach,  and  ridicule 
at  bay,  and  he  had  no  intention  of  relaxing  his  hold. 

Almost  within  sight  of  the  parsonage  Bellenden 
reined  in  his  horse,  perplexed  by  a  new  difficulty.  He 
had  sufficient  acquaintance  with  Cornelis  Ryerssen's 
character  to  know  that  any  hospitality  accorded  to 
Peggy  would  be  granted  solely  on  his  account  and  not 
for  her  sake,  or  because  of  her  graces — winning  and 
irresistible  though  other  men  found  them.  The 
pseudo- jockey  would  meet  with  scant  favor  from  the 
old  man,  who  reprobated  horse-racing  and  betting  with 
the  sternest  invectives;  nor  would  the  rigid  moralist 
find  any  excuse  for  the  girl's  disregard  of  her  sex — 
that  would  be  unpardonable  to  him.  These  thoughts 


God's  Puppets 

took  but  a  moment  to  pass  through  the  captain's  mind, 
but  they  were  powerful  enough  to  make  him  change  his 
plan.  He  would  save  Peggy,  at  least,  from  the  domine's 
scorn.  It  was  marvellous,  indeed,  this  sudden  wish  on 
his  part  to  serve  his  cousin  so  scrupulously  that  the 
good,  or  bad,  opinion  of  an  old  man,  utterly  unknown 
to  her  and  at  whom  she  would  probably  laugh  when 
once  she  had  recovered,  should  be  of  such  consequence 
to  him.  He  cantered  on  through  several  by-ways  until 
he  reached  the  unfrequented  lane  where  he  had  ar- 
ranged to  meet  the  others,  revising  his  plans  as  he  rode. 
Annetje,  so  he  determined,  should  help  him  with  her 
woman's  wit.  It  would  not  be  necessary  to  tell  the 
domine  anything  about  the  race,  for  Peggy's  sufferings 
would  be  sufficient  to  enlist  his  attentions  in  her  behalf 
and  Annetje  could  probably  so  manage  that  the  ob- 
noxious jockey  suit  should  not  offend  his  eye. 

Bellenden  dismounted  and  secured  his  horse  to  the 
old  gate,  then  he  let  himself  into  the  lush  grass  and 
advanced  cautiously,  whistling  those  soft,  sweet  notes 
which  always  heralded  his  coming.  He  waited  sev- 
eral moments  in  the  hush  that  seemed  to  spread  every- 
where before  he  repeated  the  signal;  waited  again, 
whistled  again — with  impatience  sharpening  his  call. 
Then  he  dragged  out  his  watch  and  consulted  it  fever- 
ishly. In  a  short  time,  at  most,  his  cousins  would  be 
at  the  place  of  rendezvous  and  should  he  fail  Peggy  in 
this  instance  he  did  not  see  his  way  to  help  her  further. 
And  she  trusted  him !  Eyes,  voice,  manner  had  told 
him  that  much.  He  could  not  fail  her ;  besides,  she  was 
probably  suffering  from  lack  of  proper  attention  to 
her  hurt — poor,  little  brave  Peggy — proud  and  strong 

114 


A  Friendly  Asylum 

in  her  very  weakness !  The  thought  made  him  rage 
the  more  at  his  incompetency. 

He  must  help  her.  Again  he  whistled,  this  time 
shriller  and  with  greater  insistence,  yet  he  dared  not 
delay  longer.  The  fact  that  Annetje  did  not  come 
proved  that  she  was  absent  and  the  only  thing  left  for 
him  was  to  go  boldly  to  the  front  door,  confront  the 
grim  porteress  who  kept  watch  and  ward  there  and  lay 
the  matter  before  the  domine  without  reserve.  But  if 
he  were  not  at  home,  and  with  Annetje  away  also, 
Peggy's  chances  for  succor  in  this  place  were  vain. 
There  was  little  to  hope  for  from  the  tender  mercies  of 
Heilke.  Bellenden  ground  his  teeth,  gave  a  quick, 
backward  look  at  the  lane  then  turned  to  make  his  way 
up  through  the  garden  to  the  house.  As  he  did  so, 
there  was  a  faint  rustle  in  the  grass,  a  sound  of  hurry- 
ing steps,  and  Annetje  came  running  toward  him.  He 
gave  an  eager  cry  of  welcome  that  sent  the  red  up  to 
her  soft,  fair  hair  and  made  her  eyes  dance  with  de- 
light ;  her  heart  misinterpreting  the  gladness  and  relief 
in  his  face.  He  sprang  to  meet  her  half-way,  catching 
her  hands  in  his  and  drawing  her  quickly  to  him. 

"  I  thought  you  would  never  come." 

"  Great  haste  I  mate,  oh !  yes.  Apofe  I  vas  in  my 
champer  sewing,  ant  Heilke  vas  vis  me,  so  t'at  I  knew 
not  how  to  come.  Like  a  cat  she  vatch  me  efer." 

"  What  did  the  little  mouse  do?  " 

"  I — how  to  you  say  ? — I  mate  one  sacrifice  of  t'e 
trut' — most  wrong  vas  t'at,  visout  toubt." 

"  A  little  white  lie,  child.  Let  it  go.  You  ought  to 
put  Heilke  to  sleep  these  afternoons." 

"  Sir,  unpossiple  is  t'at !  Of  herself,  she  say,  vis  one 
US 


God's  Puppets 


eye  open  she  alvays  sleeps,  ant  t'at  is  most  true.  If  she 
put  nots  ofer  her  knitting,  creak !  t'e  poarts  go,  ant  in 
one  moment  is  she  avake.  Ant  her  neetles  stop  not — 
no  once— click — click — click — forefer !  I  sait,"  his  face 
was  turned  from  her  and,  despite  the  joy  manifested  in 
his  voice,  she  thought  that  he  was  displeased  with  her, 
"  I  sait  '  Heilke  vill  you  for  me  a  favor  to  ?  Some 
rippon  must  I  haf  to  bint  t'e  slippers  for  my  fat'er  ant 
t'at  v'ich  I  pought  have  I  lost,  eferyv'ere  I  seek  for  it 
in  vain.  Go  you,  tear  Heilke,  ant  puy  me  some  ot'er.' 
Ant  she  say  '  no,'  at  first,  ant  t'en  she  vill  haf  it  t'at 
I  also  go,  put  I  tell  her  my  headt  it  aches — ant  it  aches 
not,  sir — I  sait  t'at  pecause — oh !  pecause—  In  t'e  ent 
Heilke  vent,  put  so  long  she  took  to  get  reaty  ant  I 
helping  her — Gracious  Powers ! — I  t'ought  you  vouldt 
go  avay.  Vait,  t'at  is  not  all." 

She  freed  one  hand  from  his  hold  and  drew  a  little 
roll  from  her  bodice  and  shook  it  out  before  his  eyes ; 
the  dark  strip  of  silk  uncurled  and  fell  to  the  ground, 
waving  lightly  to  and  fro  with  the  movement  of  her 
fingers. 

"  Peholt  t'e  rippon !     I— I— hit  it." 

"  Bravo  strategy !  "  He  caught  her  hand  again  and 
patted  it  softly;  he  would  have  kissed  it  but  for  his 
preoccupation.  "  So  that's  your  trouble — I  grant  you 
absolution.  Is  the  sky  clear  now,  little  one?  " 

"  If  you  say  so." 

"  If  I —  Faith,  I've  a  trouble  of  my  own  that  none 
but  you  can  straighten  out.  Listen."  He  poured  forth 
his  story  rapidly,  watching  her  intently  the  meanwhile 
so  as  not  to  outdistance  her  understanding.  Her  eyes 
shone.  Peggy  riding  to  save  her  brother  in  his  trouble 

116 


A  Friendly  Asylum 

was  a  magnificent  creature,  her  daring  atoned  for 
everything.  And  hurt?  The  fair  face  grew  tender 
on  the  moment.  The  rapid  voice  went  on  persuasive, 
masterful,  explanatory;  she  was  like  wax  to  take  the 
impression  he  wished. 

"  Put  of  course,  sir,  Captain  Pellenten — my  fat'er 
vill  glatness  haf  to  serfe  you  ant  your  cousin  also.  I 
speak  for  him.  T'e  half  of  v'at  I  haf  is  hers  for  al- 
vays — "  She  paused  visibly  distressed. 

"What  is  it,  child?" 

"  T'ose  fine  laties — oh !  you  ton't  know — t'ey  look  at 
one  ofer  t'eir  noses  t'is  vay.  Ant  t'e  ploot  purns!  I 
— I  vouldt  like  not  t'at  treatment,  not  efen  from  your 
cousin." 

"  Gad,  you  needn't  fear  Peggy."  The  confident 
voice  faltered.  How  could  he  or  any  man  predict  what 
Peggy  would,  or  would  not,  do?  Far  easier  was  it  to 
forecast  the  uncertain  glory  of  an  April  day  from  dawn 
to  dusk,  than  to  account  for  her  wayward  moods  in  an 
hour's  space.  He  hastened  on. 

"  You  will  be  kind  to  her  because  I  ask  it?  Just  at 
first  she  may  be — may  be — ahem  ! — a  little — She  has 
been  under  great  excitement  to-day,  and  her  fall  has 
injured  her  probably,"  he  finished  lamely. 

"  I  know.  I  vill  pe  goot  to  her — so  goot  like  a  sis- 
ter efen — you  vill  like  t'at  ?  Is  she  fery  peautiful  ?  " 

"  Not  so  beautiful  as  someone  I  know." 

"  Put  you — you — lof  her  maype?  "  It  was  the  mer- 
est whisper. 

"  She  has  given  me  scant  cause,  egad.  I  don't  stand 
very  high  in  my  lady's  good  books,  let  me  tell  you. 
Hark !  here  comes  the  chaise.  I  have  your  word." 

117 


God's  Puppets 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  vill  help  you  ant  I  vill  keep  secret  here 
v'at  you  haf  salt — you  may  trust  me.  T'e  all  t'at  I 
haf  is  lait  at  her  feet,  pecause  you  ask  it." 

He  let  her  hand  go  with  a  slight  pressure  and  hur- 
ried to  meet  the  advancing  carriage,  running  up  to  its 
side  with  an  anxious  question  as  it  stopped.  Larry 
sprang  out  quickly  and,  with  Bellenden's  aid,  helped 
the  young  jockey  to  alight.  Annetje's  heart  beat  tu- 
multuously  at  the  sound  of  a  querulous  voice ;  then  as 
the  two  men,  with  the  boy  between  them,  came  slowly 
through  the  gate  she  took  a  step  forward  to  meet  them. 
She  paused  in  her  errand  of  mercy  half-frightened  at 
the  low  whistle  of  surprise  that  Larry  let  fall,  the 
color  mounting  in  her  face  under  his  bold  stare. 

"  Sink  me,  Jack,  but  she's  a  beauty !  " 

The  weary  little  jockey  stopped  short  at  her  brother's 
whispered  ejaculation  and  looked  up  to  see  the  girl 
standing  a  trifle  removed  from  them  in  the  glow  of  the 
afternoon  sunlight,  with  the  tangle  of  green  bushes 
and  spreading  trees  that  cut  the  sky  into  blue  frag- 
ments above  and  behind  her.  The  dark  eyes,  heavy 
with  pain,  flashed  ominously. 

"  Is  this  your  doctor,  Captain  Bellenden?  " 

"  The  doctor's  daughter  and  your  nurse,  madam." 

His  voice  was  not  conciliatory  and  before  the  stern- 
ness in  his  face  the  passion  in  hers  abated  somewhat. 

"  I  protest  I  will  go  home." 

"That  you  cannot  do;  you  must  abide  by  my  de- 
cision. Besides,"  he  spoke  more  gently,  "  you  said  you 
would  trust  me,  and  these  friends  of  mine  are  very 
willing  to  help  you " 

"  Friends ! "  She  shrugged  scornfully  away  from  his 
118 


A  Friendly  Asylum 

supporting  arm  and  took  a  step  forward,  making  an 
imperious  gesture  to  the  girl.  Annetje  advanced  to 
meet  her  shyly  and  dropped  a  stiff,  frightened  little 
curtsey. 

"  What  is  your  name,  child  ?  "  asked  Beauty  in  her 
most  disdainful  tones,  totally  unmindful  of  the  incon- 
gruity between  her  attire  and  her  assumption  of  town 
airs." 

"  Annetje." 

"  Bless  us !  it  sounds  like  a  sneeze.  I  shall  have  to 
sit  in  a  draught  before  I  can  catch  it.  Well,  madam, 
it  seems  that,  willy-nilly,  I  am  forced  to  accept  your 
hospitality  for  this  night." 

"  For  t'is  night,  or  for  so  long  as  it  may  unto  you 
pe  a  pleasure.  I  make  you  fery  velcome  to  my  home, 
ant  my  heart  likevise.  Vat  I  haf  is  yours " 

"  Faith,  then,  I'd  like  a  petticoat  immejiately.  I'd 
not  care  to  meet  your  father  in  this  guise.  Larry  stop 
gaping.  This  is  my  brother,  Miss —  I  told  you  I 
couldn't  say  it ! — he's  like  the  rest  of  his  sex,  forgetful 
of  his  manners  when  Beauty  is  abroad.  But  la!  you 
know  the  captain,  so  why  should  I  excuse  his  fellows  ? 
Must  I  sneeze  also  when  I  address  your  father  and 
mother?" 

"  Domine  Ryerssen  is  my  fat'er  calledt,  Miss  Crewe. 
To  say  t'at  is  not  hart,  ant  I  haf  not  any  mot'er.  Since 
I  vas  a  little  chilt  is  she  teadt ;  not'ing  of  her  I  know 
only  v'at  Heilke  ant  Jan  haf  tolt  me — put  she  vas  of 
a  peauty  like  a  flower  ant  goot ! — oh !  one  of  t'e  antgels 
of  Kott.  V'at  I  know  of  her  vill  I  tell  you  one  tay,  if 
it  is  your  pleasure  to  hear.  Put  now  you  must  not 
tarry — great  pain  visout  toubt  is  yours.  Captain  Pel- 

119 


God's  Puppets 


lenten  has  tolt  me  apout  t'e  nopleness  of  your  toing — 
ant  how  grant  t'e  rite !  My  headt  it  goes  t'is  vay  vis 
t'e  fought.  Ant  you  hat  not  any  fear?  For  me  t'e 
shoutings  ant  t'e  peoples — t'ey  vouldt  haf  mate  me  like 
one  crrazy.  See,  now  you  suffer — fery  v'ite  are  your 

lips — Gentlemens,  help  me  I  pray " 

"  Just  giddy,  I  protest,  and  your  bushes  dance " 

"  T'at  is  right.  Oh !  fery  careful  carry  her,  tear  sirs, 
ant  step  soft.  My  fat'er  is  in  his  pook-room  put  I  vish 
not  t'at  he  hear  us,  for  first  vill  I  make  her  look — tiffer- 
ent — like  herself,  you  unterstant.  He  is — how  you 
say? — t'e  soul  of  trut' — he  is  trut'  in  t'e  poty — t'at  is 
it ! — ant  it  vouldt  pain  him  to  know  your  sister  hat  a 
lie  actet  efen  for  you,  Mr.  Crewe.  I  t'ink  he  vouldt 
not  pe  toleratet  of  t'e  same.  So  everyt'ing  in  my  power 
vill  I  for  Miss  Crewe  to  ant  t'en  vill  ve  call  him.  T'ank 
Kott!  Heilke  is  from  home — a  long,  long  hour  vill  it 
take  her,  she  has  efer  a  voman's  eye  ant  a  voman's 
heart  for  a  pargain.  Ah !  gentlemens,  t'e  step — t'at  is 
it — ant  now  t'e  stairs.  Hush !  hush !  t'is  vay  to  my 
champer — I  vill  go  pefore.  Put  her  gently  on  t'e  bet 
town — so,  yes — now  t'e  toor  close.  V'en  reaty  I  vill 
call." 


1 20 


XI 

THE  IMMEDIATE  JEWEL  OF  HER  SOUL 

It  was  with  the  frankest  manner  imaginable  that 
Captain  Bellenden  presented  himself  at  the  study-door 
and  told  his  simple  story.  Miss  Crewe  had  been 
thrown  from  her  horse  and  he  had  taken  the  liberty  of 
bringing  her  to  the  domine  for  aid,  her  mother  being 
from  home  and  the  town-house  closed.  Her  brother — 
here  Larry  stepped  forward — was  prostrated  with 
alarm  and  had  looked  to  him  for  guidance  in  the  mat- 
ter. And  his  thought  had  been  the  domine  and  Miss 
Ryerssen.  He  had  felt  sure  of  their  assistance  and  al- 
ready Miss  Ryerssen  was  doing  the  work  of  an  angel 
— she  had  taken  his  cousin  to  her  room  and  her  care. 

The  old  man's  face  brightened — the  little  one  was  a 
woman  and  mercy  dwelt  with  her.  He  rose  hurriedly 
to  his  feet. 

"  Put  yes,  my  serfices  are  yours,  of  course.  Prop- 
aply  no  cause  is  t'ere  for  alarm,  young  sir.  I  vill  see. 
Holt  yourself  firm  ant  apprehent  no  tanger." 

He  left  them  then  to  their  own  devices  and  their  not 
unjustifiable  fears;  after  the  lapse  of  an  hour,  which 
to  each  of  them  seemed  double  its  length,  he  returned. 
The  young  men  sprang  forward  eagerly. 

"  So — so — she  vill  not  tie — a  proken  arm  only ! 
Fearfully  ant  vonterfully  are  ve  mate,  says  t'e  Holy 

121 


God's  Puppets 


Pook,  fearfully  ant  vonterfully !  Put  a  proken  arm  is 
easier  to  recofer  from  t'an  a  proken  heart — for  t'e  one 
t'ere  is  not  any  cure.  Your  sister  is  to  pe  congratu- 
latet,  sir,  at  t'is  time." 

"  Faith,  sir,  for  all  time.  You  don't  know  Peggy," 
the  boy  laughed  unsteadily.  "  Her  heart's  not  the  sort 
to  be  broke.  And  as  to  that,  whose  is?  Tis  but  a 
phrase." 

"  A  phrase  ? — Hmm ! — perhaps — nowatays.  Veil, 
she  vill  recofer,  t'ere  is  no  toubt.  For  t'e  present,  how- 
efer,  she  is  veak  like  a  little  chilt  ant  t'ere  is  some  fefer 
pesites.  Haf  no  fear!  A  cooling  traught  I  haf  gifen 
her  ant  soon  she  sleeps.  No — no — she  must  not  pe 
tisturpt  now.  Your  anksiety  is  most  natural,  sir;  I 
comprehent  it,  put  you  must  tepent  on  me.  T'ere  is 
not  any  tanger — not  any.  My  taughter  to  your  sister 
is  so  like  a  sister,  she  vill  care  for  her  ant  likevise  vill 
I — I  promise  you.  Alreaty  in  t'e  morning  vill  t'ere  pe 
great  improfements,  put  for  many  tays — veeks  maype 
— quite  useless  is  t'e  arm.  Nature  must  take  her  own 
time,  ve  cannot  hurry  her." 

"  And  I  may  come  ?  " 

"  V'en  you  vill ;  my  house  is  yours  v'ilst  your  sister 
continues  here.  Ve  are  not  of  your  peoples,  sir;  ve 
speak  not  t'e  same  tongue,  t'ink  not  t'e  same  t'oughts 
— for  you  t'ere  is  stir  ant  fashion,  for  us  quiet — 
quiet — Our  vays  are  not  your  vays;  put  t'e  same 
Kott  mate  us  ant  you  are  fery  velcome  to  v'at  I  can 
gii" 

"Then  I  will  take  my  leave  now,  sir,  and  return 
hither  in  the  morning.  Faith,  words  are  but  words 
after  all."  the  young  fellow  went  on  brokenly,  "ill 

122 


The  Immediate  Jewel  of  Her  Soul 

things  at  best  to  pay  one's  debts  with,  but  I  thank  you 
heartily.     You've  done  more  for  my  sister  than  I  can 

tell  you,  you've  saved " 

'  Tis  even  as  my  cousin  says,"  Bellenden  interrupted 
quickly,  for  Larry  vibrating  with  the  sudden  relief  that 
had  come  to  his  anxiety  was  clearly  not  to  be  trusted 
to  voice  his  gratitude — "  what  we  feel  deepest  can  find 
small  vent  in  our  speech.  Still  we  thank  you,  though 
the  comfort  you  give  us  can't  be  put  into  words.  'Twas 
enough  to  make  a  man's  blood  run  cold  to  see  the  girl 
pitch  headlong — we  knew  not  what  to  think!  And 
now  to  know  the  truth,  to  feel  that  she  will  be  abroad 
again,  singing,  laughing,  alive,  unhurt —  'Tis  too 
much " 

"  Ah !  "  The  domine  glanced  up  at  the  shaken  face, 
then  with  an  impulse  foreign  to  his  slow,  undemon- 
strative nature  he  put  out  his  hand  and  touched  the 
captain's  arm. 

"  I  unterstant,"  he  said  simply.  "  Comfort  yourself ! 
For  her  sake — t'at  young  girl's — I  vill  to  my  pest,  ant 
for  your  sake,  ant  for  t'e  sake  of  one  whom  you  once 
knew,  yes,  I  vill  to  my  possiple.  Not  any  vort  of 
t'anks.  Sir,  I  am  a  human  man  put  here  to  to  my  tuty. 
My  tuty — v'at  is  it?  I  know  a  little  meticine — goot! 
t'at  knowletge  is  not  for  myself  alone ;  I  know  a  little 
t'eology — goot!  t'at  is  not  for  me  alone  eit'er.  V'ere 
I  can  serfe  I  must  serfe,  ot'ervise  I  am  ontrue  to  a 
trust.  Ant  v'ere  I  can  serfe  one  who  not  only  is  in 
neet,  put  who  has  my  respect  ant  has  tone  me  great 
serfice  in  t'e  past,  t'en  it  is  I — Cornelis  Ryerssen — t'at 
am  t'e  grateful  one.  T'ank  me  not  any  t'anks,  t'ere- 
fore.  Come  again  in  t'e  morning — you  ant  you — per- 

123 


God's  Puppets 


haps  you  see  t'e  little  mait ;  I  to  not  promise,  only  per- 
haps." 

He  accompanied  his  guests  to  the  door  and  watched 
them  for  a  moment  as  they  stepped  out  into  the  street, 
unusual  figures  for  that  part  of  town,  the  captain  in 
his  brilliant  uniform,  and  the  young  fop  in  fashionable 
attire.  A  window-curtain  across  the  way  stirred 
faintly  and  then  was  drawn  back  by  a  frankly  curious 
hand,  but  the  domine,  being  short  of  sight,  did  not  per- 
ceive the  action.  His  mind  was  more  busy  with  the 
past  than  with  thoughts  of  his  neighbors,  or  even  with 
the  stranger  within  his  gates  and  what  the  possible  out- 
come of  her  stay  might  be.  As  he  had  said  he  was 
here  to  do  his  duty.  After  a  little  he  went  within  and 
closed  the  door. 

Meanwhile  the  cousins  walked  away,  the  younger 
man  hanging  upon  the  elder's  arm.  For  the  moment 
they  were  silent,  then  Larry's  tongue  began  to  wag. 

"  You're  a  sly  dog,  Jack,  and  she's  a  beauty,  with  an 
ankle  fit  to  be  a  toast !  Sink  me,  if  I've  seen  her  equal 
anywhere.  Peggy  can't  hold  a  candle  to  her,  and 
Peggy  has  looks,  or  the  town  lies.  Gad,  I  couldn't  tell 
when  she  was  most  distracting — when  she  looked  at  a 
man  and  fired  him  with  her  glance,  or  when  she  cast 
her  eyes  down  and  her  lashes  lay  like  a  heavy,  silken 
fringe  upon  her  cheeks.  And  such  divine  red  and 
white!  But  she  aint  so  unsophisticated  after  all — she 
was  painted  by  God ! " 

"  And  by  God  alone,  where's  your  discrimination  ? 
She's  none  of  your  fine  ladies  with  their  paints  and 
powders.  Come,  come,  a  simple,  little  lass." 

"  A  Venus,  sir,"  Larry  cried  striking  an  attitude,  "  a 
124 


The  Immediate  Jewel  of  Her  Soul 

Venus — or  stay — what  did  they  call  that  other? 
Hmm!  the  Post-Boy  had  lines  t'other  day —  The 
charms  of  He — faith,  I'll  swear  they  meant  She — the 
charms  of  He — He — Hebe — Hebe — that's  it ! 

'The  tender  charms  of  Hebe  fair 
The  roseate  flesh,  the  sunny  hair.' 

Whoever  writ  that  must  have  seen  the  domine's  daugh- 
ter, but  the  domine —  Lud !  she  didn't  get  her  looks 
from  her  sire.  Where  are  you  taking  me,  Jack?  I 
protest,  this  is  a  world  of  your  discovering —  "Tis  all 
new  to  me  and  a  Paradise  to  boot.  What  fresh  sur- 
prises have  you  in  store — what  other  beauties  ?  Where 
are  we  going?  " 

"  We  are  going  after  our  horses  and  thence  to  the 
Province  Arms,  or  where  you  will  so  that  it  be  back 
to  our  world  where  they  are  talking  of  Touchstone's 
victory  and  wondering  why  you've  gone  to  so  much 
pother  about  a  mere  groom." 

"  'Slife!  I'd  clean  forgot.  We  must  throw  'em  off 
the  scent,  man ;  swear  black's  white  if  need  be.  They 
mustn't  dream  'twas  Peggy." 

"  You  were  a  fool  to  let  her  ride." 

"  A  fool !  "  The  young  fellow  came  to  a  standstill 
and  withdrew  his  hand  from  his  companion's  arm. 
"  Captain  Bellenden,  I  take  such  words  from  no  man ! 
Our  relationship  does  not  protect  you,  sir " 

"  I  don't  fight  with  boys ;  you  needn't  finger  your 
sword.  Your  sister's  name  has  got  to  be  saved  from 
scandal — it  shall  not  be  the  jest  of  every  low-mouthed 
cur  in  the  taverns  and  the  slur  of  every  sleek  Tabby 
over  her  dish  of  tea.  Whether  you  like  it,  sir,  or  not, 

125 


God's  Puppets 


I  say  you  were  a  fool  to  let  her  ride.  The  risks  were 
too  great." 

"  Didn't  I  point  'em  out  to  her?  "  Larry  interrupted 
hotly,  "  I'm  not  a  child.  I  counted  the  costs  before- 
hand, I  did  everything  in  my  power  to  withhold  her, 
and  in  the  end  she  had  her  own  way.  You  might  stop 
the  river  there  from  running  to  the  sea  by  building  a 
dam  of  feathers,  easier  than  you  could  stop  Peggy  once 
she'd  started  out  to  do  any  thing.  But  see  what  we've 
gained,  man.  Isn't  that  worth  the  risk  ?  " 

"  She  might  have  been  killed." 

"  Might  have  been,  but  wasn't.  Might  have  beens 
are  as  useless  to  think  on  as  the  shadows  on  the  grass. 
Touchstone  might  have  been  beaten,  but  he  wasn't — 
and  that  means  some  pretty  chinking  yellow-pieces  to 
me.  When  I've  got  'em  I  aint  going  to  think  of  what 
I'd  been  doing  if  he  hadn't  won  the  run.  Time  enough 
to  cry  over  spilt  milk  when  the  pitcher's  broke  and  the 
ground's  wet ;  but  when  you  can  drink  your  fill- 
though  not  of  milk,  thank  you ! — it  doesn't  sweeten  the 
draught  to  bother  yourself  with  possibilities.  I've  got 
a  pretty  turn  for  philosophy  in  my  make  up,  even  if  I 
am  called  a  fool  and  I've  thought  considerable,  sir,  con- 
siderable— the  brains  of  the  family  are  happily  not  con- 
fined to  but  one  branch.  Come,  let's  go  drown  worry 
in  a  bumper  and  drink  to  this  day's  luck." 

"  Where's  your  proper  feeling  for  your  sister's  suf- 
ferings, you  young  brute  ?  " 

"  Have  a  care,  Captain  Bellenden !  I  don't  want  to 
fight  you,  for  you've  done  us  a  pretty  service  this  day 
and  I  and  my  sister  are  beholden  to  you  thus  far ;  but 
il  swear  I'll  be  called  names  by  no  man,  no  matter  what 

126 


The  Immediate  Jewel  of  Her  Soul 

he  has  done  for  me  and  mine.  Pesites,"  Larry  drew 
his  mouth  down  and  mimicked  the  domine,  "  she  von't 
tie — it's  only  a  proken  arm." 

"You " 

"  A  proken  arm  ant  pruises  perhaps.  Egad,  Peggy 
was  willing  to  pay  the  piper  though  I  warned  her  at 
the  outset.  So  she  gets  well — and  the  old  fellow  said 
there  was  no  such  great  ill — it  has  turned  out  for  the 
best.  If  she  had  not  fallen,  the  crowd  would  have  got 
her  off  the  horse  and  carried  her  about  the  course  on 
their  shoulders " 

"  And  you  would  have  subjected  her  to  that?  " 

"  On  my  word  I  never  thought  of  it,  nor  did  she ; 
yet  'tis  ever  a  custom  here,  the  crowd  goes  mad  over 
the  lucky  jockey.  It  came  upon  me,  on  a  sudden,  when 
Touchstone  ran  past  the  distance-post  and  I  meant  to 
save  her  from  it  if  I  could  and  then — oh!  Jack,  Jack 
— I  thought  she  was  killed —  He  drew  a  long,  shud- 
dering breath.  "  Well,  it's  only  a  broken  arm,"  he 
laughed  unsteadily  after  a  moment. 

"  I  thought  to  see  her  neck  smashed,  her  beauty  gone. 
Discovery  seemed  inevitable  to  me." 

"  How  did  you  know  her?  " 

"  I  guessed." 

"  Slife !  then  if  you  did,  the  others  might " 

"  That's  the  point,  but  I  don't  know.  I  was  near  her 
before  the  start  and  something  about  her  hands — so 
little,  so  unlike  a  boy's — set  me  thinking  and  then  I 
knew." 

"  Gad,  Jack,  my  mother  and  the  rest — it  was  a  fear- 
ful risk !  It  means — what  ?  Peggy  would  laugh,  but 
if  the  town  knew  she'd  be  praised  for  her  pluck  and 

127 


God's  Puppets 

victory,  but  oh !  the  lampoons  and  the  scurrilous  verse 
that  would  be  writ  about  her.  A  woman  has  no  right 
to  forget  she's  a  woman — that's  what  they'd  say — to  go 
breeched  like  a  boy  in  a  public  sport.  Were  she  not 
Peggy  I'd  be  quick  to  sneer  at  such  doing,  and  so  would 
you.  We'd  think  it  deuced  brave  in  a  girl,  but  we'd 
hold  her  light  ever  after — as  light  as  we  hold  those 
others.  Jack  you're  right,  I  was  a  fool — a  damned 
fool — to  let  her  ride,  when  I  was  older  than  she  and 
knew  the  world.  She's  a  very  madcap  with  no  thought 
beyond  the  hour  and  she  felt  she'd  much  at  stake — not 
money,  I  don't  think  she'd  a  shilling  on — but  she 
thought  of  me  and  my  debts  and  the  daring  of  the  thing 
carried  her  away —  She  did  it  for  my  sake!  I 
couldn't  stop  her.  Perhaps  I  didn't  try  hard  enough, 
but  I  swear  I'd  lose  every  stiver  of  what  Touchstone 
has  brought  me  this  day  to  undo  what  has  been  done." 

"  We  must  be  wary  now,  that's  all  there's  left  to  us. 
Wrap  your  secret  up  in  frankness,  but  have  a  care  what 
information  you  give  about  your  groom ;  too  much 
openness — when  'tis  a  mask — is  as  damaging  as  secret- 
iveness,  best  take  the  middle  course.  Your  mother's 
ignorance  is  a  good  card,  one  groom  is  like  another  to 
her.  Sandy  disabled,  she  would  think  it  but  natural 
that  you  would  put  another  jockey  up  and  servants  are 
so  continually  coming  out  to  you  from  home  that  she 
wouldn't  question  the  advent  of  this  fellow.  Where 
she  goes  there  will  be  no  likelihood  of  suspicion.  It's 
among  the  men  where  it  will  crop  up  first  and  Peggy's 
name — her  good  name —  We  mustn't  quarrel,  Larry 
boy,  my  sword's  to  be  kept  bright  for  her  cause." 

"  Faith,  I  was  an  addle-pated  fellow  to  doubt  you,  and 
128 


The  Immediate  Jewel  of  Her  Soul 

here's  my  hand.  But  where  are  we  going — to  the 
world's  end  ?  And  you  know  time's  gold.  Why  didn't 
we  go  back  through  the  garden  instead  of  coming  all 
this  way  round  ?  " 

Bellenden  laughed  shortly. 

"  The  domine  never  questioned  how  we  came,  and 
'tis  no  wisdom  to  tell  more  than  you're  asked." 

"  You  mean  the  gate's  unused  ?  But  how  the  deuce 
did  you  know  about  it  to  give  us  the  directions  so  clear- 
ly? I  marvelled  at  the  time — you,  who  have  been  in 
town  so  short  time.  How  ?  And  he  has  great  respect 
for  you — oh !  lud,  lud — won't  Peggy  laugh  to  hear  this  ? 
Well,  you're  a  man  of  taste,  sir — egad,  a  man  of  taste ! 
1  never  doubted  it,  but  selfishness  is  a  deadly  vice.  I 
took  you  here  and  there,  made  you  acquainted  with  this 
Beauty  and  t'other,  and  here  you've  kept  the  queen  of 
'em  all  to  yourself.  How  did  you  compass  it?  What 
was  the  service  you  rendered  his  fustiness  the  do- 
mine?" 

"  He  chooses  to  magnify  the  deed.  A  packet  was 
entrusted  to  my  care  at  Barbadoes  which  I  promised 
to  place  in  his  hands.  Now  you  know  the  truth,  though 
I  see  no  reason  why  you  should  be  enlightened.  He 
gave  me  the  hospitality  of  his  house  in  consequence. 
As  for  the  gate — 'tis  apparent  to  anyone  who  walks 
in  the  lower  part  of  the  garden  and  to-day  it  has  served 
us  well.  Said  I  not  true  that  the  lane  is  unfrequented. 
I  doubt  if  it  is  ever  travelled." 

They  had  turned  into  the  grass-grown  alley  as  he 
spoke.  It  was  a  narrow  strip  of  land  bounded  on  one 
side  by  Domine  Ryerssen's  garden  whence  it  dipped 
and  straggled  away,  losing  itself  at  the  far  end  in  a 

129 


God's  Puppets 


tangle  of  bushes  and  quagmire.  The  whole  place  had 
a  deserted,  inhospitable  air,  though  the  green  of  sum- 
mer clothed  it  with  a  lavish  hand,  spreading  her  mantle 
upon  ground,  and  shrubs,  and  arching  trees.  Little 
wayside  flowers  peered  curiously  from  the  rank  grass, 
or  glanced — with  inquisitive  faces — from  the  thicket 
beyond,  and  somewhere  an  unseen  thrush  tinkled  out 
its  vesper  hymn.  The  silence  was  unbroken,  save  by 
that  sound  and  by  the  restless  pawing  of  the  captain's 
horse  where  he  fretted  at  his  restraint  near  the  gate. 
The  horse  in  the  shafts,  being  of  a  philosophic  turn  of 
mind  and  finding  the  weeds  to  his  taste,  had  long  since 
given  over  any  signs  of  rebellion. 

The  day  had  worn  to  its  close  and  in  the  primrose- 
colored  west  Hesperus,  like  some  rare,  jewelled  lamp, 
hung  low ;  the  air  was  cool  as  it  crept  up  from  the  bay 
with  a  trace  of  the  ocean  in  its  breath,  bringing  its 
savor  of  strength  into  the  little,  neglected  lane  where 
peace  and  safety  lay  as  securely  as  though  the  hand 
of  man  had  builded  high  walls  to  keep  all  danger  with- 
out. 

"  I'm  for  the  Province  Arms,"  Bellenden  cried. 
"  Join  me  there  over  a  bottle  of  Madeira  ?  " 

"  With  all  my  heart,  after  I've  seen  about  the  disposal 
of  this  chaise.  It  belongs  to  one  Mr.  Josiah  Storrs  of 
Fair  Street  and  I  promised  to  deliver  it  in  good  case. 
I'll  drive  home  now  and  get  one  of  the  boys  to  take  it 
back.  I'll  be  with  you  in  half  an  hour." 

"Good,  then.  I'll  wait,  but  hasten  if  you  love 
me." 

Bellenden  rode  forward  almost  noiselessly,  the 
grasses  bending  down  before  his  horse's  tread  and 

130 


The  Immediate  Jewel  of  Her  Soul 

keeping  the  secret  of  his  passing  to  themselves  on  this, 
as  on  many  another,  occasion.  The  chaise  lumbered 
after,  lurching  over  the  uneven  ground  and  creaking 
in  protest,  as  the  philosophic  horse  set  about  obeying 
his  borrowed  master's  will  with  an  alacrity  which  the 
thought  of  his  evening  meal  might  have  accounted  for, 
or  which  might  have  been  the  result  of  the  lash  that 
sung  its  message  in  his  ears  and  spelled  it  on  his  back. 

The  lane  was  quiet  after  a  moment ;  the  sharp  cry  of 
the  whip,  the  revolutions  of  the  wheels  and  the  strain- 
ing of  the  carriage  gear  were  sounds  forgotten  speed- 
ily by  the  little  spot.  Nor  did  it  notice  those  other 
sounds  that  were  part  and  parcel  of  its  being.  A  bird, 
whirring  up  from  the  thicket,  was  no  disturber  of  its 
peace,  though  the  swift  wings  clove  the  air  with  a 
strident  rush,  and  a  squirrel,  scurrying  through  the 
underbrush  where  twigs  and  leaves  made  instant  com- 
ment on  its  going,  seemed  shod  with  silence.  One  by 
one,  and  then  in  a  swelling  chorus,  all  those  little,  in- 
numerable noises,  that,  paradoxically,  make  the  hush 
of  a  summer  night  more  complete,  began  to  thrill  the 
stillness. 

From  far  away  a  whippoorwill  uttered  its  melan- 
choly note  and  suddenly,  near  at  hand  in  Domine  Ry- 
erssen's  garden,  there  was  a  stir  among  the  clump  of 
bushes  just  beyond  the  old  gate.  A  scamper  of  tiny 
feet  told  of  fright  among  those  little  brothers  of  the 
ground,  and  the  feeble  cries  of  half-awakened  birds 
seeking  a  securer  haven  heralded  some  instant  danger. 
The  hardy,  leaf-laden  branches  of  the  laburnums  were 
bent  back  and,  from  their  shelter,  eyes  that  belonged 
to  neither  beast,  nor  bird,  glanced  keenly  around.  Af- 


God's  Puppets 


ter  a  moment,  with  no  trace  of  caution  in  his  bearing, 
a  man  stepped  out  into  the  softly  gleaming  dusk.  He 
stood  quite  still  looking  up  and  down  the  little  lane 
that  men  said  led  nowhither  then,  in  his  turn,  he  left 
it  to  its  dreams. 


132 


XII 

AN  ONLY  CHILD 

When  three  and  twenty  years  before  Mevrouw  de 
Hooge  was  delivered  of  a  man-child,  her  first  question 
was  not  an  unusual  one.  In  that  respect  she  did  not 
differ  from  the  average  woman  in  a  similar  situation. 

Tryntje  Jansen  hesitated.  During  her  career  of 
"  sworn  and  approved  midwife  "  which  had  lasted  a 
good  score  of  years,  she  had  become  familiar  with  the 
words  and  had  never  been  at  a  loss  for  an  answer  be- 
fore. Invariably  her  own  syllables  were  those  of  af- 
firmation— whatever  the  real  truth  might  be — and,  with 
the  loquacity  of  her  profession,  she  would  draw  com- 
parisons between  the  tiny  features  before  her  and  those 
larger  ones  of  the  sire  in  question  until  the  mother, 
lulled  by  her  soothing  garrulity,  would  sink  into  pro- 
found slumber.  If  Tryntje  had  a  conscience — and  one 
doubts  it — she  silenced  it  with  the  assurance  that  babies 
change  and  if,  by  the  time  the  mother  was  up  and  about, 
the  desired  resemblance  had  faded,  she  could  not  be  held 
accountable  for  the  vagaries  of  nature.  On  this  occa- 
sion, however,  doubt  assailed  her  and  a  furtive  glance 
at  the  determined  face  among  the  high  pillows  further 
convinced  her  that  she  must  be  wary  in  her  speech. 

"  Does  he  favor  his  father  ?  " 

Tryntje  gasped.  Should  she  say,  as  only  the  month 
133 


God's  Puppets 


before  she  had  said  to  the  wife  of  Councillor  Wendell, 
"  Never  have  these  eyes  of  mine  beheld  such  a  re- 
semblance. After  this  very  fashion  must  your  worthy 
husband  have  looked  when  he  first  came  into  this  world 
of  storms  and  sighs  "  ?  Before  she  had  finished  her 
asseverations  the  little  lady,  settling  down  among  the 
pillows  with  a  murmur  of  satisfaction,  had  fallen  asleep. 
The  sentences  had  worked  like  a  charm.  Should  she 
use  them  again? 

"  Does  he  favor  his  father  ?  " 

The  voice  had  grown  sharper,  not  fainter ;  there  was 
a  pucker,  but  not  of  pain,  between  the  heavy  eyebrows 
that  dominated  the  large,  shapely  nose.  The  perturbed 
midwife  glanced  at  the  resolute  features,  at  the  haughty, 
imperious  eyes  turned  questioningly  upon  her,  then  her 
look  strayed  to  the  little  atom  of  humanity  in  her  arms. 
The  tiny,  red  face  offered  no  solution  to  the  dilemma, 
though  on  the  instant  the  old  woman  recalled  the 
anxious  countenance  Mynheer  de  Hooge  had  turned 
upon  her  only  that  morning  in  the  passage-way  with- 
out, where  he  had  waited  since  dawn  a  prey  to  not  un- 
natural fears,  the  usual  shiny  pink  of  his  full  moon 
face  deepened  to  an  almost  cardinal  hue  and  his  un- 
certain mouth  tremulous  with  excitement.  Poor 
gentleman !  great  drops  of  moisture  had  stood  out  like 
beads  upon  his  brow  over  which  his  wig  was  set  at  a 
rakish  angle  and  his  blue  eyes — mere  slits  like  a  pig's 
— had  shone  but  dimly  through  the  water  which  filled 
them.  Poor  gentleman!  nervous  over  this  his  first 
born  coming  after  a  period  of  ten  years'  married  life, 
this  heir  to  the  ships,  and  lands,  and  money  of  the  great 
merchant  De  Hooge.  There  was  a  resemblance — un- 

134 


An  Only  Child 


doubtedly !  She  opened  her  mouth  to  speak  the  words 
which  had  gladdened  so  many  women's  hearts  and  then 
before  she  knew  it,  and  for  no  discoverable  reason,  she 
altered  the  formula. 

"  I  cannot  say,"  she  faltered,  feeling  her  way 
cautiously,  "  the  light  is  so  dim — hush  thee,  my  lamb- 
kin!— But  a  fine  bit  of  flesh  and  blood,  and  a  man- 
child,  mevrouw." 

"  I  wouldn't  have  had  a  woman-child,"  snapped  the 
voice  from  the  bed.  "  I've  no  patience  with  women  and 
blind  ones  especially  are  not  to  my  taste.  If  I'd  known, 
Tryntje  Jansen,  that  your  eyes  were  failing  you  I  would 
have  had  Lysbert  Riemer  to  help  me  in  this  hour " 

"  That  old  maid ! — what  does  she  know  about  bring- 
ing children  into  the  world  ?  And  blind  ?  Who  says 
I'm  blind?  This  very  moment  from  where  I  stand  I 
can  see  Mevrouw  Opdyck  across  the  street  all  agog  to 
discover  if  the  cushion  on  your  knocker  is  blue,  or  white. 
There's  sight  for  you !  " 

"  It's  blue,  I  never  had  any  doubts  in  my  mind  about 
the  color,  and  all  of  hers  have  been  white — poor  thing ! 
How  many  times,  Tryntje  ?  " 

"  Eleven.  Eleven  girls — God  save  us !  Three  to 
oncet  once,  two  to  oncet  twice,  and  one  to  oncet  all  the 
other  times." 

"  I  could  almost  find  it  in  my  heart  to  forgive  her 
her  peevish,  meddling  tongue  since  the  Lord  hath  af- 
flicted her  so  grievously." 

"  Well,  well,  mevrouw,  that  is  as  it  is.  Doubtless  a 
great  affliction,  who  shall  say?  If  they  all  comb  St. 
Catharine's  hair  then  the  world  is  no  better  for  the 
trouble  of  bringing  them  into  it,  even  if  they  live  to  the 

135 


God's  Puppets 


age  of  Methusalamus.  But  if,  in  His  mercy  and  dis- 
position, He  hath  husbands  for  them  all,  though  eleven 
for  one  family  would  be  hard  to  seek  even  for  Provi- 
dence ! — then  they  may  do  their  share  for  the  next  gen- 
eration— who  knows  ?  But  sight !  I  can  see  the  very 
expression  of  her  face,  and  you  can  be  sure  if  she  knew 
I  was  watching  her  she'd  not  show  her  feelings  so 
plainly,  and  green  with  envy  has  it  become.  What  will 
it  be  when  this  precious  babekin  takes  the  air  for  the 
first  time?  A  proper  child  as  you  could  wish  to  see 
— none  properer — and  beautiful  as  the  summer's 
sun " 

"  Then  Heaven  be  praised,  he  bears  no  resemblance 
to  his  father !  " 

"  Not  for  a  moment,  mevrouw ;  he  is  like  you  and 
like  your  late-lamented  father.  Such  a  resemblance 
these  eyes  of  mine  have  never  beheld — never — never — 
It  is  wonderful.  Your  nose  in  little,  and  your  eyes, 
and  the  commandingful  turn  to  his  very  chin — like 
yours  at  this  blessed  minute — and  pale  even  like  you — 
but  that  will  mend  with  both  mother  and  child.  And 
now  to  sleep,  dear  lady,  to  sleep.  But  stay,  will  you 
have  any  speech  with  your  husband?  He  is  with- 
out  " 

"  'Twas  he  then,  fiddling  with  that  knob — I  might 
have  known  as  much.  Yes,  yes,  call  him  in.  If  you 
don't  he'll  wait  there  till  midnight.  But  remember, 
it's  only  for  a  moment." 

Tryntje  raised  her  voice  authoritatively,  and  in  an- 
swer to  the  summons  the  door  was  pushed  open  cau- 
tiously inch  by  inch,  until  the  aperture  was  wide  enough 
to  admit  the  appearance  of  a  head  which  was  with- 

136 


An  Only  Child 


drawn  immediately,  only  to  be  thrust  forward  again 
after  an  instant's  absence.  This  performance  was  re- 
peated several  times,  the  head  remaining  stationary  for 
a  longer  period  on  each  successive  occasion. 

"  Come,  come  sir,  one  side  of  the  door,  or  the  other, 
and  make  up  your  mind  quick  about  it !  I  can't  have 
this  new-born  infant  exposed  to  the  blasts  from  the 
passage-way!  to  say  nothing  of  his  mother.  The  in- 
consideration  of  mankind  is  enough  to  try  a  saint !  " 

Thus  admonished,  the  rest  of  the  figure  belonging 
to  the  head  appeared  within  the  room,  and  the  door  was 
closed  with  trembling  fingers  which  yet  executed  their 
task  with  utmost  gentleness.  For  another  moment  the 
little  man,  still  a  prey  to  his  timidity,  stood  clinging 
to  the  knob  as  if  it  were  his  only  friend,  for  notwith- 
standing the  very  generous  bit  of  gold  which  had  found 
its  way  from  his  pocket  to  Tryntje  Jansen's  capacious 
bosom  a  few  hours  before,  she  glowered  at  him  with 
malevolent  eyes  in  which  he  read  no  sympathy,  and  her 
strident  tones  struck  terror  to  his  heart.  He  was  many 
years  the  senior  of  his  wife  whom  he  held  in  great  awe, 
and  he  had  a  very  deep  love  and  adoration  for  little 
children,  though  a  shyness  also  that  had  always  kept 
him  aloof  from  them.  But  this  was  different.  This 
son  who  was  his,  who-  would  love  him  and  look  to  him 
for  help,  and  be  a  help  to  him  in  his  declining  years ! 
Yet  the  realization  of  this  dearest  of  all  dreams  left 
Mynheer  de  Hooge  dumb. 

"  Come,  come,  sir." 

He  dared  not  hesitate  a  second  longer.  He  forsook 
his  material  support,  stood  erect  after  some  fashion 
then,  with  knocking  knees,  he  sidled  up  to  the  great 

137 


God's  Puppets 


four-poster  where  his  wife  lay  regarding  him  through 
half-closed  lids. 

"  Thanks  be  to  God,  my — my  dear,"  he  stammered, 
"  that  a  son  is  born  to  us  this  day.  Had  it — ah ! — had 
he  been  a  daughter,  he — I  should  say  she — would  have 
been  welcome,  but  because  the  Lord  in  His  kindness  to 
us  has  seen  fit  to  send  a  son  to  comfort  our  old  age, 
my  cup  is  overflowing " 

"  Cup  ?  Cup  ?  I  hope  you  have  not  been  drinking 
so  early  in  the  morning,  Mynheer  de  Hooge." 

"  No,  my — my  dear — a  figure  of  speech  merely. 
But  with  your  permission  I  will  drink  your  health,  and 
the  health  of  our  son  later  in  the  day." 

Something  like  a  deep  gasp  of  relief  escaped  him 
and  he  turned  quickly  from  the  bed  to  meet  those  other, 
piercing  glances. 

"  Is  this — is  this  the  little  fellow,  Vrouw  Jansen  ?  " 
he  asked  in  an  awestruck  whisper.  She  looked  at  him 
without  speaking,  and  in  the  interval  of  silence  he  put 
out  a  shaking,  cautious  finger  toward  the  mass  of 
clothes  in  her  arms — which  was  surmounted  by  the 
puckered,  old-young  face  of  his  child.  The  next  mo- 
ment he  withdrew  it  hastily  as  though  he  had  been 
burned. 

"  Ky-ems !  "  he  chuckled,  "  ky-ems !  " 

"Tryntje,  send  that  man  away!  My  son  is  not  a 
fool." 

"Of  course  not,  of  course  not,  my — my  dear.  Twas 
a  figure  of  speech  merely.  I — ah !  I  naturally  doubted 
if  he  would  understand  any  set  phrase  in  our  more 
studied  vernacular.  I " 

"  There,  there,  sir,"  Tryntje  interrupted,  reading  the 

138 


An  Only  Child 


stormy  face  on  the  pillows  aright,  "  go  you  must  now. 
Sakes  alive!  but  irritating  isn't  the  word  for  it,  and 
well-intentioned  too.  Well,  the  Lord  help  us !  This  is 
the  way  out,  sir.  Drat  the  man !  has  he  gone  blind  all 
of  a  sudden?  Mind  how  you  step — there's  a  board 
that  creaks  outrageous,  and  crying  wood  is  the  ag- 
gravatingest  sound  to  a  just-delivered  woman  that  there 
is.  Have  a  care !  " 

"  And  don't  fiddle  with  the  knob  once  you  are  out, 
Mynheer  de  Hooge,  but  shut  the  door  and  go  away 
instantly — instantly,  do  you  hear  me  ?  " 

"  Yes,  yes,  my  dear,  I  will  go  directly.  I  will  go  and 
drink  Baby's  health " 

"  Don't  say  '  baby  '  again — I  will  not  have  it.  My 
son's  name  is  Adrian  after  my  father.  Thank  God! 
he  already  bears  a  strong  resemblance  to  him,  Tryntje 
says,  a  marvellous  resemblance.  Close  the  door  tight." 

The  hinges  did  not  creak,  it  being  a  perfectly  ap- 
pointed and  well-ordered  house  as  anyone,  who  knew 
Mevrouw  de  Hooge,  would  have  felt  sure  would  be 
the  case,  but  the  latch  clicked  gently  as  it  fell  into  place. 
Both  women  heard  it  and  the  receding  footsteps  tip- 
toeing along  the  hall ;  when  all  was  silent  again  they 
glanced  at  each  other.  Tryntje  rolled  up  her  eyes 
piously. 

"  God  save  us,  but  what  fools  even  the  best  of  hus- 
bands be !  Lacking  in  sense,  lacking  in  sense,  I  always 
say — and  one  man  presentical  with  another  for  dearth 
of  wisdom — peas  in  the  pod  are  not  so  similar.  Now 
praise  be  to  Heaven  that  women  have  been  created  into 
this  world  to  keep  it  from  the  utter  darkness  of  ig- 
norance. Take  heart,  good  lady.  Never  have  I  seen 

139 


God's  Puppets 


such  a  resemblance  betwixt  mother  and  child,  not  once 
in  all  these  years!  And  if  that  be  true  of  the  outer 
skin  which  is  but  surface-deep  and  changesome,  what 
can  be  spoke  of  the  mind  within  that  changes  not? 
The  counterpart,  I  swear,  very  like — very  like." 

Time  proved  that  Tryntje's  words — uttered  with 
deep  conviction,  whatever  their  hit  and  miss  quality 
might  have  been — held  an  indisputable  truth.  Not 
only  did  Adrian  de  Hooge  outwardly  resemble  his 
mother  and  her  late-lamented,  often-referred-to  father, 
but  those  inner  graces  of  mind,  and  temper,  were  so 
similar  to  the  ones  possessed  by  his  maternal  parent 
that  Mynheer  de  Hooge — husband  and  father — secret- 
ly trembled  beneath  their  sway  and  uncomplainingly 
bent  his  patient  shoulders  to  the  double  lash  of  tyranny. 

More  and  more,  as  his  son  waxed  in  stature,  did  the 
little  old  man  withdraw  to  his  counting-house  there  to 
spend  his  waking  hours  over  his  affairs,  which  increased 
greatly  as  the  years  passed.  In  his  own  home  he  was 
treated  as  a  nonentity  and  allowed  no  word  in  the  di- 
rection of  house,  or  son,  but  where  the  management  of 
his  wealth  was  concerned  he  reigned  absolute  lord. 
That  domain  was  indisputably  his.  He  possessed  the 
easy  business  success  which  sometimes  seems  the  native 
element  of  otherwise  stupid  men  and  unquestioned,  un- 
hampered, he  wielded  his  authority  with  a  foresight 
and  discretion  that  won  him  ungrudging  respect  from 
his  compeers. 

So  at  last,  working  early  and  late  in  the  interests  of 
a  wife  and  son  whose  affections  he  had  never  known, 
Death  and  he  came  quietly  to  terms  and  Evert  Pels,  as 
has  been  related  elsewhere,  chronicled  the  event  with 

140 


An  Only  Child 


fitting  pomp  and  precision.  And  speedily  thereafter 
that  portion  of  the  town,  where  he  had  lived  and 
labored  through  a  long  lifetime,  forgot  him  as  com- 
pletely as  though  he  had  never  been. 

Adrian  de  Hooge  was  three-and-twenty  when  he 
succeeded  to  the  sole  management  of  the  great  business 
house  of  De  Hooge  and  De  Hooge,  for  thus  the  sign 
had  read  since  the  anniversary  of  his  twenty-first  birth- 
day, when  he  had  been  admitted  as  equal  partner  into 
the  firm.  In  the  future,  he  intended,  it  should  bear  his 
name  alone,  but  for  the  immediate  present,  out  of  defer- 
ence to  the  widow's  conservatism,  he  refrained  from 
making  any  change  and  inwardly  prided  himself  upon 
his  own  fine  feelings  in  thus  honoring  his  father's 
memory.  As  a  rule  he  seldom  regarded  any  one's 
wishes,  unless  they  were  in  accordance  with  his  own, 
and  his  mother  had  long  since  discovered  that  her  au- 
thority was  but  a  straw  where  he  was  concerned. 
Proud,  obstinate,  implacable,  he  was  everything  she 
was  and  more,  for  she  had  learned  to  give  way  to  him, 
her  great  love  making  such  sacrifice  possible,  while  he 
made  no  concession. 

He  had  been  spoiled  from  his  cradle  both  at  home 
and  abroad ;  even  his  masters  at  school  had  treated  him 
with  a  partiality  never  shown  to  the  other  pupils.  As 
a  boy  he  had  been  in  some  sense  a  favorite  among  his 
mates  for,  when  he  was  not  crossed,  he  was  a  good  fel- 
low enough,  eager  for  any  sport  as  long  as  he  might 
be  leader,  full  of  fun  and  high  animal  spirits ;  there  had 
always  been,  therefore,  plenty  of  children  to  run  at  his 
beck  and  call,  hosts  of  little  sycophants  ready  to  swear 
black  was  white  at  his  dictation.  The  conditions  had 

141 


God's  Puppets 


not  changed  by  the  time  he  reached  manhood  and 
among  the  young  men  in  the  circle  in  which  he  moved 
he  held  indisputably  first  place.  Aside  from  the 
tangible  fact  that  Prosperity  and  Plenty  smiled  upon 
him  the  gods  had  also  seen  fit  to  give  him  a  pleasing 
exterior,  so  that  even  to  his  detractors  he  possessed  the 
appearance  of  a  not  inconsiderable  Adonis.  Added  to 
his  personal  beauty  he  dressed  in  the  height  of  Dutch 
fashion,  aping,  to  some  extent,  the  airs  of  the  English, 
whom  he  cordially  hated,  and  certainly  wearing  his 
clothes  with  as  much  grace  as  the  greatest  dandy  of 
them  all  who  lounged  on  a  Sunday  morning  at  the  doors 
of  Trinity. 

There  was  no  beauty  discernible  in  his  scowling  face, 
however,  that  summer  night  as  he  strode  away  from 
Domine  Ryerssen's  garden.  He  moved  slowly  with 
the  air  of  a  man  whose  mind  halts  at  every  turn.  The 
easy  confidence,  with  which  he  had  swung  through  the 
little  lane  hours  before,  had  vanished  from  his  bearing, 
but  he  carried  his  head  proudly  and  his  eyes,  looking 
moodily  before  him,  were  as  full  of  dominant  fire  as 
ever. 


142 


XIII 

THE  WEAVING  OF  FATE 

It  was  not  until  his  thirteenth  year  that  Adrian  de 
Hooge  became  really  conscious  of  Annetje's  existence. 
Up  to  that  date,  from  the  superior  altitude  accorded  to 
him  by  his  five  years'  seniority,  he  had  simply  disre- 
garded her.  Then  the  influence  which  she  was  to  wield 
over  his  future  life  made  itself  evident,  faintly  at  first 
but  no  more  to  be  thwarted  than  the  call  of  the  fresh 
spring  winds  is  to  be  ignored  by  the  sleeping  buds  and 
grasses.  As  the  time  comes  for  them  to  follow  blindly 
the  law  of  their  own  growth  so  these  two— mere  chil- 
dren as  yet — were  drawn  irresistibly  together. 

He  found  her  one  January  day  standing,  a  forlornly 
pathetic,  much-bundled-up  little  figure,  at  the  foot  of 
Flattenbarrack  Hill,  looking  longingly  at  its  summit. 
The  place  was  deserted,  though  the  twinkling  snow 
flashed  a  thousand  invitations  in  the  sun  and  the  path- 
way worn  by  the  passing  of  the  children's  sleds  gleamed 
like  a  silver  road  to  bliss.  He  himself  should  have  been 
at  school  busy  with  his  Latin,  as  his  mother  fondly 
imagined,  while  Heilke,  if  questioned,  would  have  de- 
clared that  the  domine's  little  daughter  was  working 
her  sampler  in  the  sunny  corner  of  the  attic  like  the 
good,  obedient  child  she  was.  Adrian  passed  with  an 

143 


God's  Puppets 


indifferent  glance,  dragging  his  sled  after  him,  then, 
from  the  depths  of  the  innumerable  wrappings,  there 
came  a  sigh  so  faint,  that  it  must  have  escaped  the  boy's 
hearing  had  it  not  been  among  the  written  things  which 
he  could  not  avoid. 

"  Do  you  want  a  ride  ?  "  he  demanded  gruffly,  won- 
dering at  himself. 

The  yes  of  ecstasy  mollified  him  a  trifle,  his  sight 
grew  clearer ;  young  as  he  was  her  fairness  even  then 
appealed  strongly  to  him.  He  lessened  his  stride  in 
order  that  her  quickly  pattering,  little  feet  need  not 
hurry  so  much  to  keep  step  with  him ;  he  was  lordly, 
magnificent,  and  shy,  in  a  breath.  When  they  had 
climbed  the  hill  he  placed  the  sled  in  position  and  the 
next  instant  they  were  skimming  over  the  dazzling  sur- 
face, her  laughter,  like  a  peal  of  bells,  mingling  with  his 
whoops  of  delight;  as  far  as  eye  could  see  the  white 
world  held  only  them  and  their  joy. 

The  sport  continued  a  good  hour  or  so,  the  two  com- 
panions growing  better  acquainted  with  every  passing 
moment.  He  found  he  could  not  tell  her  much  about 
himself  which  she  did  not  already  know  from  Heilke 
and  the  gossip  of  the  neighborhood.  He  swelled  with 
his  importance.  In  her  turn,  her  tongue  once  loosened, 
she  told  him  everything  concerning  her  little  life,  and 
even  whispered  a  confession  about  the  neglected  sam- 
pler in  the  garret  and  how  she  had  stolen  away  through 
the  garden  out  of  a  gate,  far  beyond  Heilke's  super- 
vision, which  nobody  supposed  was  ever  opened.  He 
took  her  back  to  it  when  she  was  ready  to  go  home 
and,  in  the  years  that  followed,  he  used  it  frequently 
when  it  suited  his  pleasure,  or  convenience,  though 

144 


The  Weaving  of  Fate 

there  was  no  bar  to  that  other  entrance,  which  all 
the  world  might  see,  for  the  heir  of  the  rich  De 
Hooge. 

His  liking  for  his  child-friend  increased  as  time  went 
on — he  domineered  over  her,  teased  her,  adored  her  as 
the  mood  impelled  him,  and  never  doubted  but  that 
one  day  he  should  win  her.  To  him,  whose  least  wish 
had  always  been  accomplished,  she  was  already  won. 
Sometimes,  when  she  teased  him  with  her  caprices,  he 
realized  with  a  pleasing  sense  of  security  that  she  was 
only  struggling  as  the  bird  struggles  when  the  net  closes 
about  it,  making  the  last  futile  attempts  for  a  freedom 
that  is  vanishing. 

Mevrouw  de  Hooge,  it  is  true,  had  other  plans  in 
view;  she  had  several  candidates  for  the  position 
of  her  son's  wife,  inestimable,  docile  girls,  good  house- 
keepers, passing  fair  to  look  upon  with  the  addi- 
tional fairness  of  a  not  inconsiderable  dowry.  It  was 
an  open  secret,  moreover,  that  these  candidates — and 
others  less  desirable  in  the  maternal  eye — were  only 
too  eager  to  secure  the  biggest  plum  in  the  matrimonial 
market;  and  innumerable  were  the  snares  laid  to  en- 
trap his  affections.  He  had  thus  far  been  delivered 
from  them,  owing  to  a  watchful  Providence,  a  jealous 
mother  and — not  the  least  important  factor  to  be  con- 
sidered— his  own  calculating  nature.  There  were 
times,  however,  when  he  had  seriously  weighed  the  ad- 
vantages of  a  marriage  with  money  and  had  even  al- 
lowed his  attentions  to  become  marked  in  certain  direc- 
tions, yet  always  before  the  fatal  step  was  taken 
inclination — he  called  it  love — swung  him  back  An- 
netje's  way.  And  love  it  undoubtedly  was — the  deep- 

145 


est  he  could  feel — though  the  girl,  despite  her  worth 
and  beauty,  would  never  occupy  the  chief  place  in  his 
thoughts  since  that  was  completely  filled  by  his  own 
image. 

By  degrees,  and  as  the  first  step  toward  the  attain- 
ment of  his  desire,  he  vanquished  his  mother's  opposi- 
tion, wringing  a  grudging  consent  from  her,  though 
he  did  not  deem  it  necessary  to  the  furtherance  of  his 
plans.  He  welcomed  it  gladly,  however,  as  another 
proof  of  his  power.  If  he  could  bend  her  strong  will 
to  his,  there  was  little  to  worry  about  in  the  ultimate 
disposal  of  so  slight  a  thing  as  a  girl's  heart. 

Solely  to  please  him  during  the  winter  preceding  his 
father's  death  Annette  was  bidden,  not  once  but  many 
times,  to  the  great  house — the  house  which  Adrian 
meant  should  be  hers  one  day.  On  several  occasions 
she  accompanied  her  father,  making  one  at  the  sumptu- 
ously laden  table  where  there  were  long  intervals  of 
silence  between  the  two  old  men,  domine  and  host, 
lighted  by  rare  flashes  of  speech,  reminiscent  in  quality 
on  either  side.  And  all  through  the  meal  Adrian  talked 
in  his  boastful  voice  of  what  he  had  done  and  would 
do,  while  his  mother  sat  magisterially  silent  behind  the 
massive  tea-equipage  letting  nothing  escape  her.  To 
the  girl,  sitting  shy  and  frightened  near  that  awful  pres- 
ence, the  time  passed  like  a  nightmare;  she  did  not 
know  whether  it  was  harder  to  meet  her  lover's  eyes 
irritating  in  their  boldness,  or  his  mother's  glance  of 
chilling  disparagement. 

But  there  were  other  evenings  at  the  De  Hooge  man- 
sion that  held  only  pleasant  memories  for  Annetje. 
Waffle-frolics  and  simple  diversions,  when  the  young 

146 


The  Weaving  of  Fate 

folk  danced  to  the  music  of  fiddles  played  by  negro 
slaves,  or  romped  through  kissing-games,  or  sang 
rounds.  Her  beauty  made  her  easily  the  queen  of  these 
little  assemblies,  though  her  gown  was  always  the  same 
simple  India  silk  fashioned  by  Heilke's  fingers,  but 
many  were  the  appreciative  glances  cast  her  way  and 
Mevrouw  de  Hooge,  looking  on  from  her  corner,  re- 
garded the  girl  with  more  tolerance.  A  thing  gained 
or  lost  in  her  esteem  according  to  the  value  placed  upon 
it  by  the  world,  and  being  a  wise  woman  she  trimmed 
her  sails  to  the  wind.  So  it  was,  that  with  matters  at 
this  pass,  Annetje  was  singled  out  by  the  chief  femi- 
nine mourner  at  the  time  of  Mynheer  de  Hooge's  ob- 
sequies, and  showered  with  attentions  which  gave  food 
to  the  gossips  and  set  them  speculating  about  the  near- 
ness of  the  wedding. 

Domine  Ryerssen,  going  a  few  days  later  to  offer 
spiritual  consolation  to  the  widow  in  her  affliction  (and 
he  ought  to  have  known  better!)  was  considerably  sur- 
prised at  the  interview  which  followed.  She  cut  short 
his  words  of  sympathy,  and  also  his  directions  as  to 
where  she  could  find  peace  of  mind  and  resignation, 
the  latter  with  considerable  warmth  of  manner,  (she 
needed  no  one  to  point  out  her  Christian  duty,  thank 
Heaven  !),and  plunged  immediately  into  a  declaration 
of  her  son's  passion  and  a  formal  demand  for  An- 
netje's  hand.  The  old  minister  fell  back  in  his  chair, 
his  face  working  piteously.  At  first  his  hostess,  pos- 
sessed by  the  belief  that  the  splendor  of  the  offer  had 
dazzled  the  unworldly  eyes  turned  upon  her,  was  more 
kindly  inclined  toward  her  visitor,  for  whom  she  had 
for  many  years  entertained  only  a  feeling  of  contemptu- 


God's  Puppets 


ous  toleration;  but,  as  he  stammeringly  found  his 
tongue  and  she  learned  that  he  was  not  overwhelmed 
by  the  honor  done  him  and  his,  her  sentiments 
changed  with  the  velocity  of  a  whirlwind.  His  simple 
iteration  that  Annetje  was  too  young  filled  her  with 
rage. 

"Young — young?  She  isn't  any  younger  than  her 
mother  was  when  you  made  a  laughing-stock  of  your- 
self, Domine  Ryerssen,  and  set  her  up  among  us  as 
the  pastor's  lady.  It  was  a  mercy  she  died  when  she 
did,  for  I  doubt  if  she  would  have  filled  the  position 
satisfactorily  to  the  parish  if  she'd  been  spared.  Well, 
wisdom  lies  with  God,  as  I've  said  to  myself  a  thousand 
times  since  Mynheer  de  Hooge  was  taken,"  she  paused 
out  of  breath. 

"  Consider  this  affair  as  definitely  settled,  sir,"  she 
continued  with  flashing  eyes,  "and  let  us  thank  the 
Lord  for  the  benefits  He  has  seen  fit  to  shower  upon 
your  child.  Truly,  as  hath  been  said  of  another,  she 
is  blessed  among  women " 

"Mevrouw!" 

"  I  said  it,  sir.  Is  it  worse  to  say,  than  think  it  ? 
When  it  is  noised  abroad  that  your  daughter  weds  my 
son  will  not  that  be  the  thought  everywhere?  If  you 
place  no  high  estimate  upon  his  attainments  and  his 
standing  in  the  community,  let  me  assure  you  that  the 
world  has  a  different  opinion.  It  is  an  honor,  sir, 
which  he  bestows  upon  your  child,  an  honor  I  trust 
she  will  appreciate — but  she  is  not  blind,  if  you  have 
been.  I  wish  her  to  come  to  me  day  after  to-morrow 
— without  fail,  remember — Adrian  is  forced  to  go  to 
Virginia  then,  on  business  which  will  keep  him  from 

148 


The  Weaving  of  Fate 

home  for  a  month  or  more.  When  he  returns  we  will 
speak  more  precisely  of  the  wedding." 

Then  he  was  summarily  dismissed  and  half-dazed 
by  this  sudden  turn  of  affairs,  which  swept  aside  all 
thought  of  his  other  parochial  duties,  he  sought  his 
home,  not  quite  sure  in  his  own  mind  as  to  what  had 
really  happened.  Annetje  was  spinning  in  the  kitchen 
and  listened  to  his  news  without  a  word,  though  Heilke 
kept  up  a  running  comment  of  delighted  cries,  like  a 
little  joyful  tune  which  offered  a  marked  contrast  to 
his  grave  voice.  In  the  light  of  her  appreciation,  how- 
ever, the  mists  lifted  somewhat  from  the  old  man's 
heart  and  he  reproached  himself  for  the  selfishness  that 
had  made  him  cry  out  against  the  good  fortune  that  had 
come  to  his  child.  He  had  hoped  to  keep  her  with  him 
till  the  end;  yet  her  happiness,  doubtless,  lay  else- 
where. 

He  touched  the  rosy,  downcast  face  timidly,  raising 
it  a  little  toward  his  dim  eyes  that  he  might  read  the 
joy  it  held.  But  it  was  like  a  book  in  a  strange  tongue 
to  him,  he  did  not  understand  it — perhaps  it  was  be- 
cause he  was  too  old  to  understand.  Age  is  so  far  away 
from  youth  that  one  forgets  the  way  back  oftentimes. 
There  were  such  mixed  thoughts  in  the  girl's  breast, 
however,  that  it  would  have  taken  a  person  of  keener 
insight  than  Domine  Ryerssen  to  read  them ;  even  she 
was  puzzled  herself,  she  could  not  tell  whether  she  was 
glad,  or  otherwise.  She  was  dazzled  a  little  by  the  fact 
that  she  had  been  asked  in  marriage  by  the  most  eligible 
young  man  in  Dutch  circles — she  was  only  too  con- 
scious of  Adrian's  position,  as  Mevrouw  de  Hooge  had 
surmised — and  her  liking  for  him  dated  from  her  child- 

149 


God's  Puppets 


hood :  though,  already,  other  thoughts  were  beginning 
to  stir  within  her. 

"  Does  it  make  you  happy,  little  one  ?  " 

She  hung  her  head.  If  she  said  no — what  would  that 
mean?  Just  the  dull  stagnation  of  home  with  Heilke 
for  companion  and  the  garden  for  amusement,  with 
perhaps  an  occasional  invitation  '  to  take  tea  out '  at 
some  stately  house.  All  through  her  life,  save  for 
Adrian's  friendship,  she  had  been  singularly  alone; 
there  had  been  no  other  intimacy  and  scarcely  any 
other  young  companionship.  And  now  a  little  word 
of  hers  would  put  an  end  to  everything — dances,  games, 
songs — there  would  be  nothing  left  but  quiet  from 
morning  to  night.  It  was  in  the  early  days  of  her 
acquaintance  with  Bellenden  and,  though  her  dreams 
were  full  of  him,  she  clung  childishly  to  the  slight  hold 
she  had  upon  the  world  of  delight  as  represented  by 
Mevrouw  de  Hooge's  parties.  She  wavered  slightly. 

"  Do  you  love  him  ?  " 

"  I — I  love  you,  father,  and  Heilke  and  Jan — I  will 
stay  here,  if  you  please." 

"  The  child  is  mad — mad — don't  listen  to  her  Do- 
mine.  The  best  match  in  town  and — '  I  will  stay  here, 
if  you  please.'  Owed  Owee!  another  would  snap  at 
the  chance.  Another?  Twenty  others !  You  can't  de- 
ceive me,  I'm  not  blind ;  there's  not  a  girl  of  marriage- 
able age  in  the  parish  but  would  thank  God  fasting  for 
such  a  piece  of  good  fortune,  and  all  you  say  is  '  I  will 
stay  here,  if  you  please.'  Where's  your  gratitude? 
That  fat  Bertha  would  burst  her  sides  with  envy  if  she 
knew  this.  Think  of  the  mevrouw's  laces  and  jewels, 
child.  She  can't  take  them  with  her  and  they'd  all  be 


The  Weaving  of  Fate 

yours  some  day.  And  such  a  fine,  strapping  fel- 
low  " 

"  The  child  shall  say  no  if  she  wishes,  Heilke." 

"  You'll  live  to  rue  this  day,  sir,  if  you  uphold  such 
doings — it's  flying  in  the  face  of  Providence!  Oh! 
my  dear — dear — dead  mistress,  when  you  used  to  kiss 
your  baby  daughter  and  make  plans  about  her  growing 
up  to  womanhood,  little  did  you  think  she'd  ruin  her 
prospects  for  a  ninny's  whim.  Oh !  if  you  were  here 
to  counsel — you,  a  woman,  knowing  more  of  such 
things  than  a  holy  man  steeped  in  book  learning  and  not 
having  his  child's  welfare  at  heart " 

"  Heilke— Heilke— what  can  I  do?  " 

"  Rule  her,  sir,  rule  her !  Tis  written  children  obey 
your  parents,  and  again,  honor  thy  father  and  mother, 
and  honoring  means  obeying.  Command  her.  Re- 
member Solomon,  a  man  wise  in  his  day  and  genera- 
tion and  mindful  of  a  parent's  duty." 

"  But  her  happiness?  " 

"  Her  happiness  ?  "  Heilke  exchanged  a  glance  with 
Heaven.  "  We  ain't  going  to  live  forever,  Domine  Ry- 
erssen,  and  when  we've  gone  who'll  look  out  for  her 
happiness?  Who  better  than  a  husband?  Can  she 
take  care  of  herself?  A  weak,  backboneless  creature 
— good,  yes,  but  without  managing  qualities — helpless 
as  a  babe,  you  can  take  my  word  for  it !  And  Adrian 
de  Hooge  offers  her  houses,  carriages,  money — she 
mustn't  say  no —  It's  the  best  match  in  town,  I  tell 
you.  And  child,  think  of  all  the  women  in  the  Garden 
Street  church  and  what  their  feelings  would  be  when- 
ever you  went  past  them  in  your  rich  robes " 

"  Peace  woman !  " 


God's  Puppets 


"  Nay,  there's  nothing  like  being  on  a  pinnacle  and 
looking  down  on  others,"  Heilke  cried,  disregardless  of 
reproof.  "  It's  the  sauce  to  the  pudding  every  day,  and 
generally  speaking  folks  have  to  take  their  pudding 
plain  and  pretend  they  like  it  best  so,  thankful  enough 
to  get  it  at  all,  for  the  most  of  the  world  goes  without. 
Happy  ? "  she  broke  off  to  laugh.  "  I'd  stake  my 
chances  for  Eternity  upon  it !— or  she  isn't  like  the  rest 
of  us." 

"  Heilke,  you  pain  me." 

"  There,  there,  sir — let  be.  Tis  but  the  froth  on  top, 
cast  it  aside  as  of  little  worth.  Who  am  I,  do  you  ask, 
who  lifts  her  voice  to  counsel  one  old  in  wisdom  ?  A 
humble  handmaiden  serving  in  the  house  of  a  man  of 
God,  and  knowing  her  duty  too.  Oh !  listen  to  me, 
Domine,  I  must  speak.  Ever  since  my  dear,  departed 
mistress  changed  her  mortality  for  shining  robes  of 
bliss  I  have  looked  after  this  child,  thought  of  her  good, 
worked  my  fingers  to  the  bone  for  her  day  and  night. 
And  I  can't  see  her  throw  away  this  wonderful  piece  of 
luck — this  assurance  of  happiness  for  her  future.  I 
stand  in  a  mother's  place,  I  speak  as  a  mother  would — 
Be  guided,  sir." 

"  My  little  maid,  I  think  Heilke  is  right,  I  think — 
perhaps — were  your  mother  here,  she  would  say  the 
same — I — I  cannot  tell — I  live  so  much  with  my  books 
and  I  grow  old — very  old.  But  Adrian  de  Hooge 
comes  of  God-fearing  parents  and  he  is  also  a  good 
man.  He  loves  you  very  deeply,  little  one,  he  has  loved 
you  since  you  were  a  child,  his  mother  says,  and  he  is 
near  your  own  age,  too,  as  should  be — as  should  be — 
between  man  and  wife.  Can  you  not  find  a  different 

152 


The  Weaving  of  Fate 

answer  ?  Come !  Mevrouw  de  Hooge  would  see  you 
this  week." 

Annetje  shivered  a  little. 

"  Well  then,  I  will  not  go  to  her — no,  Heilke,  I  will 
not.  Let  Adrian  come  to  me  if  he  wishes  to  marry  me 
and  let  her  likewise " 

"  God  help  us !  'tis  flat  and  open  rebellion.  Go  away, 
Domine,  and  leave  me  to  wrestle  with  the  girl  alone; 
she  used  to  have  some  sense.  What!  Mevrouw  de 
Hooge  come  here  and  the  grass  not  sprouted  yet  on 
her  husband's  grave — and  such  good  growing  weather 
as  it  has  been  for  the  past  few  days.  Owee!  Owed 
To  come  here,  as  if  my  lady  there  had  all  to  give  and 
nothing  to  receive.  Owee!  Owee!" 

The  mutiny  was  soon  quelled.  It  never  occurred  to 
Annetje  that  she  could  do  otherwise  than  follow  her 
father's  wishes,  for,  imbued  by  Heilke's  unceasing 
arguments,  he  speedily  laid  his  commands  upon  the  girl 
and  then,  having  once  definitely  expressed  himself,  he 
returned  to  his  books  and  regarded  the  matter  as  settled. 
To  obey  had  been  the  key-note  of  Annetje's  life,  though 
whenever  she  had  been  able  to  evade  authority  she  had 
been  quick  to  do  so.  In  this  instance,  however,  there 
was  but  one  alternative.  She  must  obey,  or  tell — 
what?  Little  foolish,  lovely  dreams  that  her  father 
and  Heilke  would  not  understand,  because  such  as  they 
had  never  dreamed  them — little  floating  fancies  that 
made  the  blood  rise  and  rise  again  to  her  cheeks. 

In  the  end  she  went,  as  Heilke  knew  well  would  be 
the  case,  to  pay  the  desired  visit.  At  which  time  Me- 
vrouw de  Hooge,  with  a  show  of  kindness  which  took 
off  the  edge  of  her  condescension,  received  the  girl  al- 

153 


God's  Puppets 


most  cordially  and  made  her  feel  more  thoroughly  at 
ease  than  she  had  ever  been  in  the  older  woman's  so- 
ciety, while  Adrian's  undisguised  delight  helped  the 
interview  to  a  satisfactory  close.  Annetje  returned  to 
her  home  considerably  lighter-hearted  than  she  had 
been  for  many  days,  and  not  a  little  flattered  by  her 
lover's  protestations  and  his  mother's  graciousness. 
The  satisfaction  of  an  accomplished  duty  gratified  her 
and  there  was  comfort  in  the  reflection  that  the  autumn, 
with  the  hinted-at  wedding,  was  months  away.  When 
Adrian  returned  from  Virginia,  she  told  herself,  she 
would  never  think  of  anyone  else,  though  for  the  pres- 
ent there  could  be  no  harm — not  the  least  harm  in  the 
world ! — in  dreaming  those  happy  dreams. 

The  races  were  being  run  on  Sir  Peter  Warren's  es- 
tate up  at  Greenwich  the  day  of  Adrian  de  Hooge's 
arrival  in  New  York.  The  information  was  given  him 
at  the  wharf  and  later  at  the  deserted  coffee-house 
whither  he  went  for  his  mail,  but  the  young  Dutchman, 
pleasant  as  the  sport  usually  was  to  him,  had  no  in- 
tention of  making  one  of  the  on-lookers.  Instead,  he 
hastened  to  his  home  and  held  a  short  interview  with  his 
mother,  who  was  secretly  tremulous  with  the  joy  of  his 
coming,  and  then,  after  a  prolonged  toilet,  he  set  forth 
to  seek  Annetje.  He  would  have  hesitated  to  say  how 
many  times  he  had  dreamed  of  this  first  meeting,  go- 
ing over  each  detail  in  his  fancy  with  a  rapture  hitherto 
unknown  to  him.  He  had  a  hundred  things  to  tell  her 
and  many  pretty  trinkets  with  which  to  delight  her  eyes. 
He  had  planned  that  she  should  pay  for  them  all  in 
kisses,  and  he  told  himself  again  and  again,  chuckling 

154 


The  Weaving  of  Fate 

at  the  thought,  that  he  would  have  the  best  of  the 
bargain. 

He  made  his  way  rapidly  to  the  lane,  resolving  to  go 
up  through  the  garden  and  surprise  her  among  her 
flowers,  or  spinning  at  the  kitchen  door.  In  his  im- 
patience he  did  not  wait  to  unfasten  the  gate,  but  vault- 
ed over  it,  missed  his  footing  and  fell  headlong.  It 
was  the  accident  of  a  moment ;  he  was  on  his  feet  al- 
most instantly  again  with  a  muttered  imprecation,  and 
paused  to  arrange  his  disordered  dress.  The  last 
crease  smoothed  out,  and  his  temper  somewhat  re- 
stored, he  looked  up  casually  just  in  time  to  see  an  Eng- 
lish officer  on  horseback  riding  rapidly  forward.  The 
unusual  sight  shook  De  Hooge  more  than  his  fall  had 
done.  He  felt  the  pain  of  it  in  every  nerve,  then  a 
quick  glance  convinced  him  that  the  new-comer,  pre- 
occupied with  his  own  thoughts,  had  not  perceived  him 
and,  following  an  inexplicable  impulse,  he  secreted 
himself  hastily  among  the  laburnum  bushes.  There,  a 
prey  to  rage  and  jealousy,  he  remained  to  see  all  his 
golden  plans  of  home  and  happiness  crumble  and  fall 
into  nothingness. 

Away  off  at  the  edge  of  the  world,  where  they  say 
the  Fates  sit  spinning  the  skein  of  human  destiny,  the 
threads  of  certain  lives  became  entangled  that  after- 
noon. Such  diverse  threads,  so  remote  from  one  an- 
other that,  at  first  sight,  their  meeting  seemed  of  all 
improbabilities  the  most  improbable.  Such  diverse 
threads  and  yet,  one  by  one,  the  inexorable  spinner 
crossed  them  in  her  weaving — the  worn,  gray  thread 
of  age,  the  rich,  strong  thread  of  manhood,  the  lighter 
quality  of  youth,  the  glancing  gold  where  a  girl's  way- 

155 


God's  Puppets 


wardness  ran  side  by  side  with  the  little,  white  thread 
of  a  sister  soul,  and  the  darker  strand  where  jealousy, 
thwarted  desire,  and  revenge  spread  over  the  whole. 

Away  off  there  Fate  chuckled  grimly,  then,  with  those 
strange,  inexplicable  eyes — sad  with  the  mystery  of  life 
— she  looked  down  at  the  work  as  it  slipped  through 
her  fingers. 


156 


XIV 

AN  UNEXPECTED  VISIT 

To  seek  out  the  different  coffee-houses  and  there 
make  public  the  story  of  the  Beauty's  escapade  seemed 
to  Adrian  de  Hooge  the  first  step  toward  securing  his 
vengeance.  But  that  plan  was  speedily  dismissed. 
His  quarrel  was  not  with  the  brother  and  sister,  who 
would  be  the  chief  sufferers  by  the  disclosure,  but  with 
the  man  who  had  supplanted  him  in  Annetje's  favor, 
and  primarily  with  the  girl  herself,  who  had  held  her 
betrothal  in  so  slight  a  fashion.  For  her  secret  was 
no  secret  to  his  jealous  eyes,  and  in  the  moment  when 
he  read  the  joy  in  her  upraised  face  every  good  and 
tender  feeling  within  him  knew  its  death.  There  was 
no  bottom  to  the  hatred  he  suddenly  felt  for  her,  and 
no  scheme  too  hellish  that  he  would  not  seek  to  devise 
it  for  her  undoing,  and  in  compassing  it  he  cared  not 
how  many  others  would  be  included  likewise.  Abso- 
lutely merciless  at  all  times,  when  blinded  by  anger  he 
had  a  supreme  lust  for  inflicting  pain ;  he  was  one  of 
those  men  whose  spirit  of  revenge  demands  a  wide 
orbit — it  must  sweep  everybody,  guilty  and  innocent 
alike,  in  the  circle  of  its  wrath.  To  have  Annetje  suf- 
fer alone  would  not  satisfy  him,  those  bound  to  her  in 
kinship  must  suffer  also — throb  for  throb,  ache  for 
ache.  If  the  girl  had  been  one  of  a  large  family,  he 
would  not  have  rested  until  he  had  brought  sorrow  and 

157 


God's  Puppets 


disgrace  to  each  member;  having  only  her  father,  it 
was  but  the  most  natural  thing  that  Adrian  de  Hooge 
should  instantly  conceive  an  unreasoning  and  brutal 
dislike  for  the  domine,  which  could  only  terminate  to 
the  old  man's  disadvantage. 

As  he  revolved  scheme  after  scheme  in  his  mind,  the 
thought  occurred  to  him  that  it  would  injure  Annetje's 
standing  with  her  new  friends,  and  deprive  her  of  their 
liking,  if  Miss  Crewe's  secret  were  to  remain  inviolate 
until  after  her  departure  from  the  parsonage ;  when  its 
disclosure  would  seem  prompted  by  feminine  jealousy, 
or  disregard  of  honor.  Who  would  believe  Annetje's 
protestations  of  innocence?  Who,  but  she,  was  sup- 
posed to  know  of  the  English  girl's  disguise?  What 
were  the  suspicions  of  a  few  spectators,  if  any  had  been 
quick  enough  to  discover  the  jockey's  identity,  com- 
pared to  Annetje's  own  knowledge  ?  And  who  would 
be  the  first  to  repudiate  her,  if  not  her  lover — the  cap- 
tain? That  would  be  one  way  in  which  to  inflict  pain, 
exquisite  in  quality,  upon  her,  and  others  would  not  be 
wanting.  With  this  end  in  view  the  young  Dutchman 
determined,  for  the  present  at  least,  to  give  no  hint  of 
what  he  had  heard  and  witnessed  in  the  garden  and,  as 
he  passed  cautiously  by  back  streets  and  lanes  to  his 
home  in  Gold  Street,  he  smiled  cruelly  to  himself  in  the 
dark.  He  would  watch  and  wait — wait  an  eternity,  if 
need  be — for  power  lay  in  his  hands. 

In  the  week  that  followed,  despite  this  resolution  on 
the  part  of  Adrian  de  Hooge,  the  whole  parish  of  the 
Garden  Street  church  quivered  with  .curiosity.  The 
daily  visits  of  the  two  young  men  to  the  domine's  house 
were  viewed  with  suspicion  and  dismay  by  the  neigh- 

158 


An  Unexpected  Visit 

bors  living  along  the  route.  The  women  speculated 
over  their  work  and  especially,  when,  after  the  custom 
of  the  times,  they  congregated  in  little  groups  on  the 
stoops  of  the  houses  in  the  cool  dusk  the  air  was  rife 
with  their  surmises ;  while  the  men,  sitting  by,  smoked 
their  long-stemmed  pipes  and  pondered  over  the  scan- 
dal in  their  turn.  Secret  as  Peggy's  coming  had  been, 
the  fact  of  her  being  in  their  midst  was  something  that 
could  not  long  remain  unknown,  though  the  chintz  cur- 
tains at  Annetje's  window,  persistently  veiled  the  mys- 
tery of  her  presence  from  inquisitive  glances.  It  was 
Heilke  who  was  chiefly  responsible  for  the  first  impetus 
to  the  ball  of  gossip,  though  she  would  have  strenuously 
denied  any  such  charge;  yet,  waylaid  in  the  street 
whenever  she  made  her  appearance  and  assailed  with 
questions,  she  fanned  the  excitement  into  a  flame  with 
the  audacity  of  her  unreserve.  She  was  smarting  with 
a  strong  sense  of  disapproval  and  her  condemnation  of 
her  master's  guest  was  as  unguarded  as  her  hearers 
could  well  wish ;  what  her  own  lack  of  knowledge  with- 
held, they  pieced  out  with  surprising  ingenuity  and  did 
not  spoil  the  story  in  so  doing. 

Strangers  coming  at  any  time  into  their  placid  lives 
would  have  caused  some  sort  of  ferment,  but  when  the 
unknown  represented  the  world  of  fashion  and  another 
nationality  than  theirs,  manifest  danger  stalked  abroad. 
It  was  a  danger  that  threatened  to  undermine  every- 
thing— home,  society,  church.  The  domine  was  old 
and,  as  Heilke  truly  said,  had  the  heart  of  a  child  for 
seeing  guile,  still  he  held  the  highest,  most  responsible 
position  in  the  community  and  if  he  entertained  world- 
liness  and  vice  (the  two  seemed  inseparable  in  the 

159 


God's  Puppets 


minds  of  his  accusers),  to  whom  could  they  turn? 
How  could  they  follow  his  teachings  ?  Vague  rumors 
of  ill  buzzed  throughout  the  parish,  gaining  in  bulk 
over  many  a  Del  ft- ware  tea-cup ;  they  were  even  car- 
ried to  the  doors  of  St.  Nicholas's  where  on  Sunday  the 
people  lingered,  after  listening  to  Domine  Ryerssen  ex- 
pound the  Heidelberg  catechism,  to  compare  notes  on 
the  distressing  situation. 

The  clamor  did  not  reach  the  old  man  at  his  books 
and  Annetje,  unwearying  in  her  attendance  on  their 
guest,  was  equally  unconscious  of  the  storm  of  detrac- 
tion and  disapproval  that  was  gathering  about  them. 

Heilke,  swelling  with  importance,  threw  wide  the 
study-door  without  the  preliminaries  of  a  knock,  and 
Jan  Praa,  immediately  behind  her,  peered  over  her 
shoulder,  lowering  and  breathless.  His  person  was 
partially  enveloped  in  a  leather-apron  spotted  with 
earth  stains,  his  coarse  wig — above  his  hot,  streaming 
face — was  stuck  full  of  bits  of  twigs  and  stray  leaves 
which  gave  him  the  effect  of  an  ancient  satyr  return- 
ing from  some  orgy,  while  for  a  thyrsus  he  carried  a 
spade  to  which  blades  of  grass  were  still  clinging. 

"  Their  most  gracious  High-Mightinesses " 

"  Foei,  woman,  foei!  Sinful  mortals,  such  as  we  all 
be " 

"  God's  elect,  I  tell  you." 

"  I  stand  as  good  a  chance  as  they — I,  a  doorkeeper 
in  the  house  of  the  Lord  since  ever  I  reached  man's 
estate " 

"Tis  with  the  Lord  to  judge;  He  knoweth  the 
properer  heart." 

160 


An  Unexpected  Visit 

"  He'll  not  need  your  promptings,  creature  of  pots 
and  pans." 

The  domine  turned  a  bewildered  face  toward  the  two 
disturbers  of  his  peace. 

"  Cease  wrangling,"  he  commanded  sternly.  "  Jan, 
Jan,  how  often  must  I  tell  you  that  the  house  is  Heilke's 
province  ?  " 

"  But  consider,  sir,  if  the  consistory  holds  a  meeting 
do  not  I  open  the  door  to  them  ?  Do  not  I  arrange  the 
places  ?  " 

"  Surely — surely." 

"  I  told  the  woman  so  and  she  usurped  my  office ; 
she  opened  to  them,  bobbing  like  a  cork  upon  the 
waters " 

"  You — you  lover  of  untruth !  Sir,  to  liken  me  to 
a  cork — was  there  ever  such  infamy?  I  am  no  cork, 
thank  God! — I  am  no  light-headed,  light-heeled  thing 
such  as  he  consorts  with  at  the  ale-houses.  A  cork 
indeed !  Hear  me,  sir,  I  did  but  make  my  duty  to  their 
High-Mightinesses " 

"  Elders  and  deacons,  woman." 

"  Their  High-Mightinesses !  I  did  but  say  '  good- 
day  Mynheer  Kip,  good-day  Mynheer  Roelofsen — I 
rejoice  to  see  your  honor  so  well,  Mynheer  Van  der 
Grist,  Mynheer  Van  Corlear  you  are  welcome '  " 

"  You  should  have  held  your  clack,  praatster,  what 
did  they  care  for  your  greetings  ?  " 

"  When  was  this  Heilke  ?     I  do  not  understand." 

"  Even  now,  sir  At  this  very  minute  their  High- 
Mightinesses  sit  in  the  parlor — God  be  praised!  I 
cleaned  it  yesterday." 

"  The  elders — and  here  ?  I  do  not  understand.  Is 
aught  amiss  with  the  chamber  in  the  church,  Jan  ?  " 

161 


God's  Puppets 


"  Naught,  sir,  spick  and  span  is  it,  as  these  two 
hands  could  make  it — and  yet  cheated  of  this  meeting. 
Riddle  me  why?  Besides  the  elders,  the  woman  has 
named,  have  come  Mynheer  Kiersted,  Mynheer  Jacob 
Kay  and  Mynheer  Van  Cortlandt;  Mynheer  Tiemen 
alone  is  absent,  but  he'd  not  leave  his  shop  on  so  bright 
a  business  day — not  he !  " 

"  The  consistory — and  here  ?  Was  there  a  meeting 
called?  I — I — my  memory  is  treacherous  sometimes. 
Did  they  go  to  the  church  and  find  us  unprepared  ?  " 

"  Jan  Praa  is  never  unprepared,  sir.  I  should  have 
reminded  you  had  there  been  any  necessity." 

Domine  Ryerssen  fumbled  hurriedly  through  the 
notes  on  the  table,  bringing  them  up  to  his  near-sighted 
eyes  and  scanning  them  closely ;  he  put  them  down  with 
a  shaking  hand. 

"  You  say  true,  Jan,  you  are  a  zealous  servant,  you  do 
not  forget.  But  to  come  here — it  must  be  a  mat- 
ter of  great  importance — some,  some — personal  mat- 
ter perhaps,"  he  stopped,  visibly  disturbed,  his  face 
growing  suddenly  pinched  and  gray.  He  caught  his 
breath. 

"  My  sermon  was  overlong  last  Sunday,"  he  said  al- 
most apologetically  after  a  moment,  "  but  those  minor 
prophets  are  of  stupendous  interest — I — I  could  not 
seem  to  let  them  go.  I  was  angered  when  you  rapped 
thrice  on  the  pulpit,  Jan." 

"  I  did  not  exceed  my  duty,  sir ;  twice  had  the  hour- 
glass run  its  course." 

"  Yes,  yes,  but  a  little  longer — a  half  hour  perhaps, 
would  have  seen  the  end.  You  are  sure  you  wait  till 
the  last  drop  has  run  out  before  you  turn  the  glass  ?  " 

162 


An  Unexpected  Visit 

"  The  last  trickle,  sir.  In  these  times  of  change  I 
must  be  careful,  we  must  all  have  a  care,  minister  and 
voorleezer  alike.  We  are  serving,  sir,  serving.  That 
very  morning  Mevrouw  de  Hooge  yawned  out  loud 
twice,  and  old  Mynheer  Opdyck  gaped  also,  and  that  so 
prodigiously  the  whole  church  would  have  echoed  it  in 
another  moment.  There's  nothing  so  catching  as  your 
real,  down-right,  come-from-your-heels  yawn.  It 
tickles  a  man's  jaws  whether  he  will  or  no,  pops  them 
open,  and  sends  the  water  flying  to  his  eyes " 

"  Their  High-Mightinesses  sit  in  the  parlor  and  the 
sun  is  streaming  in  where  I  have  drawn  the  curtain. 
Let  the  domine  attend  to  his  guests,  Jan  Praa.  It's 
yawns  enough,  we  all  know,  once  you  begin  your  prat- 
tling. Hurry,  sir,  hurry,  I  beseech  you.  'Tis  the  time 
of  day  when  the  sun  must  shine  on  the  red  velvet  chair 
and  red  fades — red  fades!  Do  not  keep  their  honors 
waiting  any  longer,  sir,  and  mind,  when  once  you're  in 
the  room,  that  you  move  the  chair,  or  let  the  curtain 
fall — you  don't  need  much  light." 

The  chiding  voice  aroused  the  old  minister  from  a 
painful  reverie  and  brought  back  very  forcibly  the  sense 
of  the  present  and  its  duties.  He  looked  up  helplessly, 
staring  first  at  one  and  then  at  the  other  of  hiz  old  ser- 
vants, as  if  he  would  read  some  encouragement  in  their 
faces,  but  neither  showed  any  comprehension  for  him 
at  that  moment.  He  moved  away  from  the  table  and 
walked  slowly,  almost  uncertainly,  to  the  door;  on  a 
sudden  his  years  seemed  to  weigh  like  a  burden  upon 
him.  Jan  put  out  a  kindly  hand  and  steadied  him  by 
the  arm. 

"  Remember  the  chair  and  the  curtain,"  Heilke 
163 


God's  Puppets 


cautioned  shrilly,  as  the  two  men  turned  into  the 
passage.  "  The  sun  will  creep  in  by  and  by  as  far  as 
the  table.  Be  sure  you  keep  it  out.  And  come  you 
back,  Jan  Praa,  once  you've  opened  the  door  for  the 
domine.  The  meeting  can  get  along  without  you  well 
enough.  The  consistory's  here  to  talk  about  matters 
above  your  wool-gathering  wits." 

While  she  was  still  speaking,  from  the  upper  part  of 
the  house  there  came  the  sound  of  a  girl's  voice  singing 
gayly,  every  word  clipped  clear  and  distinct : 

"  '  Then  sigh  not  so, 
But  let  them  go, 
And  be  you  blithe  and  bonny; 
Converting  all  your  sounds  of  woe 
Into,  Hey  nonny-nonny.' " 

As  Jan  threw  the  door  open  the  rippling  music  floated 
into  the  parlor  with  something  like  a  challenge  in  its 
merry  note.  The  men  sitting  there,  each  one  rigid  and 
erect,  seemed  suddenly  to  stiffen  under  its  spell  into 
figures  of  stone,  their  faces  lengthening  into  preter- 
natural gravity.  Mynheer  Roelofsen,  who  was  a  trifle 
hard  of  hearing,  was  the  only  one  to  alter  his  position, 
he  bent  forward  with  his  hand  to  his  ear  in  order  not 
to  lose  a  single  word,  his  little  gimlet-like  eyes  rolled 
into  the  corners.  For  the  moment,  though  the  domine 
had  entered  the  room,  not  one  of  his  guests  appeared 
to  see  him.  He  stood  hesitating  near  the  threshold, 
scanning  the  faces  before  him — a  touch  of  longing  in 
his  glance — but  he,  too,  was  mute. 

Jan  Praa  nudged  his  arm. 

"  Say  something,  bid  them  welcome,"  he  whispered. 
164 


An   Unexpected  Visit 

Domine  Ryerssen  advanced  a  few  steps,  and  still 
through  the  open  door  behind  him  came  the  song : 

" '  Sing  no  more  ditties,  sing  no  mo 

Of  dumps  so  dull  and  heavy; 
The  fraud  of  men  was  ever  so, 
Since  summer  first  was  leavy. 
Then  sigh  not  so, 
But  let  them  go, 
And  be  you  blithe  and  bonny; 
Converting  all ' ' 

"  Voorleezer,"  commanded  Mynheer  Kip  in  stento- 
rian tones, "  close — that — door !  " 

Jan  Praa  obeyed  the  order  with  surprising  alacrity, 
shutting  himself  out,  greatly  to  his  discomfiture.  But, 
despite  his  endeavors,  it  was  not  possible  to  silence 
that  happy,  audacious  voice ;  like  a  little,  mocking  echo 
the  words  floated  in  through  the  keyhole  with  some- 
thing malicious  in  their  utterance : 

"  '  Into,  Hey  nonny-nonny.'  " 


165 


XV 
THE  CONSISTORY 

The  room,  with  its  mingled  odors  of  calamus  and 
myrrh  and  its  air  of  disuse,  seemed  to  hold  a  strange 
chill  to  the  domine,  though  the  brilliant  afternoon  sun 
was  streaming  in  through  the  flowered-tabby  curtains 
making  a  great,  golden  patch  on  the  chair  just  as 
Heilke  had  predicted  would  be  the  case.  He  shivered 
slightly  and  his  imploring  glance  wandered  almost  pit- 
eously  from  one  guest  to  the  other  and  then  away  from 
them  all  to  the  little  alabaster  image  in  the  centre  of 
the  mantel,  as  if  its  familiar  shape  alone  embodied  the 
spirit  of  friendliness.  There  was  nothing  else  on  the 
shelf  except  the  brass  blekker,  hanging  at  one  end,  with 
its  green  bay-berry  wax  candle  ready  for  a  usefulness 
that  was  never  demanded  of  it.  The  only  ether  orna- 
ment the  room  contained  was  a  jar  of  pot-pourri  upon 
the  near-by  table,  but  its  cover — guarded  by  a  coiled 
dragon — was  seldom  raised  and  the  little  heap  of  rose- 
leaves  within  lay  undisturbed,  dreaming  of  past  sum- 
mers, with  not  a  hint  of  their  sweetness  to  relieve  the 
half-musty  atmosphere. 

The  embellishments  that  constituted  the  chief  pride 
of  the  homes  of  the  well-to-do-Dutch  in  the  parish  were 
singularly  lacking  here,  and,  no  matter  how  Annetje 
might  sigh  for  them,  Heilke  was  well  content  with  their 

166 


The  Consistory 


absence.  Others  might  have  carved  furniture  and  ad- 
mire it — mere  traps  for  dirt,  she  averred — rare  China 
monsters  to  grin  at  one  from  the  chimney-place,  give 
her,  instead,  the  old  valletje  with  its  bit  of  silver  lace 
garnishing.  Let  others  keep  their  tapestries  and  their 
pictures;  just  the  little  one  of  the  Zuyder  Zee,  in  its 
frame  of  Dutch  wood  scalloped  and  painted  black,  with 
touches  of  gold  here  and  there,  was  enough  for  her. 
Let  others  have  their  ivories  from  the  Orient,  their 
sweet-smelling  woods  carved  into  fans  and  boxes,  their 
Venetian  mirrors — what  were  they,  after  all,  but  inven- 
tions of  the  Evil  One  to  catch  the  dust  and  hold  it,  and 
be  the  housekeeper's  bane  ? 

She  could  show  substantiality  and  order.  Two  fine 
red  velvet  chairs,  a  black  oak  settle,  a  table  ditto,  and 
three  high-backed,  leather  chairs.  What  could  heart 
of  woman  desire  more?  In  accordance  with  the  cus- 
tom of  the  times  the  stately  room  was  but  seldom  used ; 
to  admit  a  visitor  to  the  contemplation  of  such  treas- 
ures, Heilke  considered  a  boon  to  be  granted  only  to 
the  most  worthy,  as  on  this  particular  occasion.  It  had 
been  one  of  the  greatest  crosses  she  had  ever  known 
that  the  beloved  spot  had  been  profaned — there  was  no 
other  word — during  the  preceding  week  by  the  pres- 
ence of  Captain  Bellenden  and  his  cousin. 

The  former  gentleman  had  grown  tolerably  familiar 
with  his  surroundings  and  their  lack  of  entertainment 
during  those  visits,  when  he  was  forced  to  cool  his 
heels  there  while  Larry  spent  the  time  above-stairs ;  for 
Peggy,  long  after  it  was  necessary,  kept  her  room  when- 
ever the  captain  appeared  and  insisted  upon  Annetje's 
society.  The  three  merry  voices  invaded  the  sacred 

167 


God's  Puppets 


stillness  of  the  parlor  and  often  piqued  the  waiting 
man  into  losing  his  temper,  especially  that  little  gay, 
mocking  laugh  which  was  fast  growing  into  the  dear- 
est sound  in  all  the  world  to  him.  A  thousand  times 
he  swore  to  himself  that  he  would  come  no  more — he 
was  a  fool ! — but  as  regularly  as  Larry  sought  out  the 
domine's  home,  just  so  regularly  did  Bellenden  accom- 
pany him ;  though  his  anxiety  concerning  his  cousin's 
welfare  was  never  appeased  by  a  direct  message  from 
the  sufferer  herself.  Mynheer  Van  Corlear  would 
never  have  rested  so  complacently  against  his  chair, 
had  he  known  that  its  unyielding  back  had  supported 
the  captain  during  those  periods  of  vexation;  but  the 
old  velvet  told  no  tales  of  the  scarlet  coat  to  the  elder's 
silk  camlet. 

Domine  Ryerssen  leaned  a  trifle  heavily  against  the 
table ;  what  seats  the  room  afforded  were  occupied  and 
he  was,  therefore,  obliged  to  stand.  It  was  no  physical 
fatigue,  however,  that  caused  him  to  droop  before  the 
little  assembly  of  stern-faced  men,  but  rather  an  over- 
powering fear  that  the  secret,  which  he  had  guarded 
for  years,  was  at  last  laid  bare.  The  thought  made 
everything  swim  before  him.  He  fastened  his  gaze 
resolutely  upon  Mynheer  Kiersted's  large,  rubicund 
countenance,  squinting  somewhat  as  if  it  were  indeed  a 
fiery  sun. 

"  Gentlemen,"  he  began  slowly,  almost  painfully,  "  I 
am  at  your  service.  I  trust  no  great  need  of  church,  or 
home,  has  given  occasion  for  this  visit,  I — I — "  he 
stopped,  glancing  helplessly  around. 

"  It  is  not  a  matter  concerning  our  beloved  church," 
Mynheer  Kip  asseverated  pompously,  "  else  would  the 

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consistory  have  met  as  usual  within  the  sacred  pre- 
cincts  " 

"  But  'tis  of  crying  importance,  sir — "  the  interrup- 
tion was  winged  with  heat ;  the  new  speaker — a  small, 
fussy-looking  man — wore  an  habitually  bellicose  ex- 
pression on  his  sharp,  prominent  features  as  if  he  were 
at  odds  with  the  whole  world — "  it  is  useless  to  disre- 
gard that." 

"  Slowly — slowly — neighbor  Van  Cortlandt.  Mod- 
eration is  a  jewel  whose  price  is  esteemed  far  above 
rubies.  As  I  have  said,  Domine  Ryerssen,  the  matter 
does  not  pertain  to  the  church,  nor  is  it  a  subject  for 
discussion  in  a  house  of  prayer.  Knowing  this,  sir, 
we  have  presumed  to  invade  your  solitude " 

"  Solitude,  Mynheer  Kip  ?  I  object  to  the  phrase — 
it  is  injudicious,  ill-advised — I  appeal  to  the  others. 
What  solitude  did  we  find  ?  We  have  heard  this  after- 
noon a  ribald  song,  one  only  fit  to  be  voiced  in  the 
taverns  by  those  light  denizens  of  perdition " 

"  An  English  song,"  interrupted  Mynheer  Roelofsen, 
sitting  well  away  from  the  back  of  his  chair  and  fairly 
quivering  with  the  enormity  of  the  offence.  "  In  the 
atmosphere  of  sanctity  we  have  listened  to  the  lutings 
of  a  female " 

"  The  lady,  gentlemen,  is  my  guest." 

"  A  female,"  sputtered  Roelofsen,  his  little  pale,  blue 
eyes  snapping  vindictively,  "  an  English  female.  The 
whole  parish  knows  the  truth  of  what  I  speak.  It  is 
scandalous — scandalous!  Domine  Ryerssen,  you  are 
harboring  a  serpent  in  your  bosom,  have  a  care  that 
you  be  not  stung." 

A  flush  of  annoyance  crept  into  the  lined,  gray  face ; 
169 


God's  Puppets 


relieved  as  the  old  minister  was  to  discover  that  his 
secret  was  still  safe  with  him,  he  was  yet  visibly  dis- 
tressed to  have  his  hospitality  arraigned.  He  was  not 
a  man,  despite  his  feeble  aspect,  to  brook  interference 
of  any  sort.  He  drew  himself  up  to  his  full  height. 

"  You  are  right,  gentlemen,  in  saying  this  matter  is 
not  a  subject  for  discussion  in  church,  but  I  will  go 
farther  than  that  and  tell  you  it  is  not  a  subject  for  dis- 
cussion anywhere.  I  have  heard  that  the  English  have 
a  saying  that  an  Englishman's  house  is  his  castle ;  sirs, 
a  Dutchman's  house  is  his  castle  no  less.  It  is  his  to 
say  who  shall  enter,  who  shall  dwell  therein,  and  no 
other  individual  can  arrogate  that  right  unto  himself." 

"  Friends,  friends,  is  not  this  condemnation  enough  ? 
Out  of  his  own  mouth  has  he  convicted  himself.  To 
quote  the  English  to  us,  to  take  their  ways  for  his 
standard — what  can  you  ask  more  ?  Verily,  I  say  unto 
you,  like  Jeroboam  of  old  hath  he  followed  after  strange 
gods.  Oh  Ichabod,  Ichabod,  the  glory  is  departed 
from  Israel ! " 

"  Slowly,  slowly,  neighbor  Van  Cortlandt.  Let  not 
your  zeal  after  righteousness  consume  you.  Gentle- 
men, bear  in  mind,  I  beseech  you,  that  by  previous  ar- 
rangement it  has  fallen  to  me  to  be  the  mouthpiece  of 
this  assembly.  I  must  insist,  therefore,  that  there  be 
no  further  interruptions  until  I  have  made  plain  to  Do- 
mine  Ryerssen  the  reason  of  our  coming." 

Mynheer  Kip  eyed  his  colleagues  wrathfully,  but  the 
most  of  them  evaded  his  glance  of  outraged  authority 
and  studied  the  elaborate  pattern  traced  upon  the  sand- 
ed floor.  After  a  brief  interval  of  reproachful  silence 
he  turned  again  to  his  host. 

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"  Sir,"  he  continued,  his  lagging  syllables  tuned  to 
sadness  and  reproof,  "  we  felt  that  a  matter  so  domestic, 
so — ah ! — personal,  was  without  the  jurisdiction  of  the 
Classis  at  Amsterdam.  And,  moreover,  it  was  a  ques- 
tion in  our  minds  whether  we  could  afford  to  let  so  dan- 
gerous an  action  wait  until  we  should  obtain  directions 
from  over-sea.  Cautious  as  we  are,  and  loath  to  judge, 
it  seemed  wrong  to  wait.  Nor  did  it  seem  feasible  to 
convene  a  Classis  here,  as  has  been  done  in  times  past, 
before  pointing  out  to  you  the  error  you  have  commit- 
ted. It  would  be  possible — quite  possible — to  have  the 
domines  from  the  Middle  Church  and  from  Breucklyn, 
Esopus,  and  Albany  sit  upon  this  case  and  by  their  dis- 
tinguished counsel  throw  light  upon  our  troubled  way. 
But  think,  sir,  of  the  valuable  time  that  must  elapse 
before  even  such  a  meeting  could  be  convened.  In  the 
meanwhile  our  wives  and  daughters  are  exposed  to 
the  licentious  glances  of  the  British  soldiery  and  the 
oglings  and  grimacings  of  a  simple  fop,  for  such  idlers 
— God  save  the  mark! — have  of  late  frequented  this 
neighborhood  and  entered  this  very  house.  Our  lit- 
tle children  are  daily  witnesses  of  this  unthrift  of  the 
hours,  this  shameful  disregard  of  the  golden  minutes, 
this " 

Mynheer  Van  der  Grist  uncrossed  his  ponderous  legs 
with  the  air  of  a  man  who  has  taken  a  sudden  resolu- 
tion, and  cleared  his  throat  significantly. 

"  And  above-stairs,"  Mynheer  Kip  spoke  more  quick- 
ly than  was  his  custom,  though  the  acceleration  of  his 
speech  diminished  almost  immediately  into  its  placid 
dog-trot,  "  there  is  a  female — a  young  woman — admit- 
ted to  the  society  of  your  daughter — a  true  Dutch 

171 


God's  Puppets 


maiden,  as  we  have  rejoiced  to  think.  Do  you  not 
tremble  at  the  danger  that  encompasses  your  child? 
She  stands  upon  the  brink  of  an  abyss ;  below  her  yawns 
the  deadly  pit  of  fashion  and  vice — of  perdition  to  her 
soul.  How  long  before  she,  too,  will  sing  '  Hey  nonny, 
nonny  ?  '  Words,  sir,  that  no  self-respecting  female 
would  ever  utter,  words  of  such  dread  significance  that 
in  our  tongue  we  have  no  equivalent  for  them.  Thank 
God,  they  are  untranslatable !  Shall  we  look  to  see  An- 
netje  flaunting  in  the  streets  with  the  graces  of  the 
fashionable  women  whose  souls  are  snared  with  the 
fleeting  beauties  of  this  world?  And  for  yourself — 
what  danger  is  imminent!  No  man  has  the  right  to 
expose  himself  to  the  wiles  of  the  other  sex — we  are  but 
flesh,  sir,  flesh — and  the  devil  lays  bait  for  us  even  when 
we  are  descended  in  years.  Age  is  no  safeguard;  it 
is  easier  to  slip  then,  than  when  the  road  is  level  and 
our  step  firm " 

"  Mynheer  Kip,  I  am  a  man  of  God." 

"  Sir,  sir,  be  your  thoughts  never  so  spiritual  there 
are  moments  when  the  carnal  will  creep  in ;  the  Elders 
themselves  were  tempted  of  Susannah — so  it  stands 
written,  and  they  were  devout  and  holy  men." 

"  But  this  girl,  this  child — nay,  I  must  speak — she  is 
of  my  daughter's  age,  merry-hearted  like — like — "  the 
domine  hunted  painfully  for  a  simile,  "  like  the  sun- 
light there,  and  as  pure.  You  shall  not  defame  her  by 
such  imputations.  I  know  not  how  you  heard  of  her 
coming  hither,  though  I  think  it  be  true  that  walls  not 
only  have  ears  but  tongues  as  well.  Let  that  pass. 
There  is  no  need  for  secrecy  in  the  matter  that  I  can 
see.  The  child  was  thrown  from  her  horse  and  her 

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arm  broken  and  her  cousin — the  soldier  you  referred  to, 
an  honorable  gentleman,  let  me  assure  you,  one  pre- 
viously known  to  me  and  deeply  respected — brought  her 
to  my  home,  thinking  I  could  help  her  in  her  distress. 
What  I  could  do,  sirs,  I  did,  not  one  of  you  would  have 
acted  otherwise.  She  was  suffering,  ill  from  excite- 
ment and,  for  a  few  days,  was  feverish  and  even  de- 
lirious at  times — " 

"But  her  people?" 

"  They  were  in  the  country,  save  the  young  man — 
her  brother — and  he  has  been  here  daily  to  see  her,  as  is 
most  natural.  My  house,  then,  in  her  need  is  hers. 
May  I  not  play  the  good  Samaritan  unrebuked  ?  " 

"  The  Samaritan,  Domine,  left  the  stranger  at  the 
inn." 

"  But  only  because  the  inn  was  near  at  hand  and  his 
home  distant.  O  generation  of  cavilers !  "  his  voice 
shook  with  sudden  anger,  "  is  not  the  spirit  the  same  ? 
Must  we  go  by  on  the  other  side  if  the  fashion  of  the 
garment  is  different,  saying :  '  because  you  are  of  other 
blood  than  ours  you  must  lie  there  until  your  own  peo- 
ple come  to  succor  you.'  Friends,  friends,  it  matters 
not  who  it  is — the  service  is  demanded  of  us,  our  hands 
must  give  the  cup  of  cold  water,  or — failing — the  lost 
opportunity  is  placed  against  the  credit  of  our  souls." 

The  grave  faces  seemed  to  grow  longer  and  graver, 
the  perplexity  deepened ;  the  sunbeam,  as  if  it  were  in- 
deed of  the  same  light-hearted  composition  as  Peggy 
Crewe,  danced  persistently  upon  the  silver  buckles  that 
adorned  Mynheer  Kiersted's  colossal  feet,  throwing  off 
little  derisive  sparkles ;  it  had  quite  left  the  chair  occu- 
pied by  Mynheer  Roelofsen. 

173 


God's  Puppets 


The  domine  was  the  first  to  break  the  silence. 

"  Are  we  not  teld  to  show  hospitality  to  strangers  ?  " 
he  asked  almost  gently,  his  whole  aspect  changing  and 
becoming  on  the  instant  full  of  tolerance.  "  You  re- 
member the  injunction,  surely.  For  thereby,  it  is  said, 
some  have  entertained  angels  unawares." 

"  Nay,  if  you  will  pervert  the  Scriptures  and  quote 
them — twisting  their  meaning  to  serve  your  turn,  I'll 
meet  you  on  the  same  ground,  I'll  match  you — '  He  that 
is  surety  for  a  stranger  shall  smart  for  it,'  mark  me 
well ! — shall  smart  for  it " 

"  Stil!    Stil!     Slowly  neighbor,  curb  your  zeal." 

"  Why  waste  the  time  in  further  discussion  ?  It  is 
unavailing.  We  had  better  appeal  to  the  Classis " 

"  But,  gentlemen,  my  brothers,  think  a  moment.  I 
have  labored  long  among  you,  I  have — "  the  old  man's 
voice  trembled,  "  I  have  endeavored  not  to  fail  you. 
This  guest  is  not  of  my  own  seeking,  but  hospitality  is 
the  law  and  honor  of  my  house — as  it  is  of  each  one 
of  yours,  and  I  could  do  no  otherwise.  Were  the  girl 
of  frail  character  I  still  must  give  her  shelter." 

"  Your  charity  and  toleration  exceed  your  discretion, 
Domine  Ryerssen.  However,  until  the  case  is  proved 
different  we  prefer  to  believe  that  your  guest  is  unim- 
peachable in  her  morals ;  though  we  must  consider  her 
protracted  stay  ill-advised.  What  pains  us  most  at  this 
time  is  the  rumor  that  in  your  sympathy  with  the  Eng- 
lish you  wish  to  make  certain  innovations  in  our 
church " 

"  It  is  false.  I  would  not  change  an  iota.  Your  in- 
formant?" 

"  Such  a  step  is  to  be  deprecated.  It  would  involve 
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the  loss  of  doctrine,  mode  of  worship,  government,  ay 
the  very  name  of  the  church  itself." 

"  Gentlemen,  listen  to  me.  On  my  honor,  I  protest, 
this  is  farthest  from  my  heart.  For  me  there  is  no 
speech  so  beautiful  as  this  our  language — I  speak  the 
English  but  haltingly,  as  you  know,  though  I  compre- 
hend it — I  comprehend  it.  But  I  would  be  loath  to 
welcome  it,  or  any  other  alien  tongue,  into  our  church 
and  yet  He,  who  made  us,  hears  and  understands  every 
word  and  thought  of  ours,  be  we  who,  or  what  we  may. 
For  Him  there  is  no  difference  in  nationalities." 

"  'Twill  be  a  black  day  when  English  is  preached 
from  the  Garden  Street  pulpit — I'll  not  submit  to  the 
change — I'll  fight  the  matter  to  the  extent  of  the  law, 
and  if  the  case  goes  against  us  then — if  I  must  have 
English,  I'll  have  all  English — I'll  go  to  Trinity.  I 
won't  listen  to  an  English  sermon  set  in  between 
Dutch  prayers  and  Psalms,  as  we  give  a  child  a  bolus 
hidden  away  in  some  delectable  wrapping.  I  won't 
be  hoodwinked  in  that  fashion — all,  or  nothing,  is  my 
motto." 

"  Be  moderate,  neighbor,  be  moderate.  There  is  no 
prospect  of  such  preaching  in  our  midst.  Happily,  for 
the  present  at  least,  that  danger  does  not  threaten  our 
beloved  church." 

"  You  say  true,  Mynheer  Kip — the  danger  is  to  be 
averted  while  we  keep  our  stanch  Dutch  hearts,  while 
we  hold  to  old  customs  and  oppose  the  encroachments 
of  the  English,  whose  speech  has  crowded  ours  to  one 
side,  though  it  is  not  moribund,  thank  God !  We  will 
resist  the  tendency  of  the  mart  in  our  house  of  prayer 
like  men  of  might." 

175 


God's  Puppets 


"  Amen  and  amen,  neighbor  Van  Corlear.  Even 
the  domine  is  with  us  there,  I  doubt  not " 

"  Hold !  "  The  minister's  voice  was  sharp  with  com- 
mand. "  I  object  to  your  phrase  '  even  the  domine,' 
Mynheer  Kay.  I  tell  you  the  domine  is  heart  and  soul 
for  the  preservation  of  the  church  as  it  is  to-day.  Not 
one  of  you — I  care  not  who  he  is — feels  it  more  a  part 
of  himself  than  he  does.  Sirs,"  Cornelis  Ryerssen 
glanced  slowly  around  at  each  one  of  his  guests,  "  I  am 
older  than  the  oldest  of  you  and  change  does  not  come 
readily  to  age;  the  old  ways  are  best  to  me.  I  had 
hoped — I  hope — to  die  in  the  service  of  the  Garden 
Street  church  such  as  you  and  I  have  always  known  it. 
With  a  sadness  that  I  trust  you  may  never  know  have 
I  looked  upon  the  decreasing  congregation  there ;  per- 
haps, if  you  noted  that  such  an  one  absented  himself 
from  the  house  of  God,  you  said  among  yourselves, 
'  Well,  the  domine  ages,  he  does  not  see/  And  all  the 
time  every  defection  has  been  a  knife-stab  to  my  heart." 
He  had  been  walking  up  and  down  in  front  of  the 
table,  restless  with  pain,  but  suddenly  he  came  to  a 
pause. 

"  You  have  misunderstood  me  cruelly — cruelly,"  he 
cried.  "  The  speech  of  my  people  is  mine  while  I  live, 
their  ways  are  my  ways,  their  God  my  God." 

An  audible  sigh  of  relief  went  up  from  the  little  as- 
sembly, and  the  heavy  faces  brightened  a  trifle. 

"  You  have  set  our  minds  at  rest,"  blustered  Mynheer 
Kiersted,  usurping  the  place  of  the  slower  spokesman. 
"  The  rumor  came  from  many  quarters — we  were 
forced  to  give  it  credence.  We  understand  English, 
being  men  of  education  and  meeting  the  other  nation- 

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ality  frequently  in  trade,  but  we  love  the  old  tongue  and 
cleave  to  it  at  home  and,  wherever  it  is  possible^  abroad. 
Your  stanchness  is  goodly  news  to  us." 

"  But  he  must  rid  himself  of  his  guest,  if  he  would 
thoroughly  convince  us,"  Mynheer  Roelofsen  whis- 
pered. "  We  have  the  right  to  demand  that  much  of 
him.  Insist  upon  it,  neighbor,  insist  upon  it." 

"  You  ask  more  than  lies  in  my  power  to  perform," 
the  domine  interrupted  before  anyone  else  could  speak. 
"  My  guest  has  recovered,  but  my  roof  still  shelters  her 
and  I  cannot  bid  her  begone.  To-morrow,  or  the  next 
day  perhaps,  it  may  be  her  whim  to  leave  us.  Cannot 
you  wait  till  then?  Cannot  you,  knowing  me,  trust 
me?" 

"  It  is  pernicious  for  the  neighborhood — for  your 
daughter." 

"  Ah !  my  Annetje,  never  fear  for  her !  Say  she 
speaks  the  other's  language  most  excellently — to  her 
father's  ear,  that  is — well,  she  learned  it,  picked  it  up, 
as  the  expression  goes,  and  your  little  daughters — have 
they  not  done  likewise  ?  There  is  no  harm  in  that ;  she 
and  they  are  none  the  less  Dutch  maidens  because  of 
their  proficiency.  Have  no  fear !  My  child  comes  of 
Dutch  parents,  she  is  true  to  her  people — the  English 
are  nothing  to  her,  nothing — you  may  believe  me.  Be- 
sides, though  I  lift  the  veil  from  her  heart  in  telling 
you,  one  day  she  will  wed  a  Dutchman,  Adrian  de 
Hooge  by  name " 

"  No — no,  that  cannot  be !  "  Mynheer  Van  der  Grist 
stuttered  vehemently,  his  mind  whirling  with  certain 
secrets  that  had  been  whispered  to  him  on  the  conjugal 
pillow  about  his  daughter  Bertha  and  the  young  man 

177 


God's  Puppets 


the  domine  was  now  claiming  as  his  prospective  son- 
in-law.  "  You  err,  sir,  you  deceive  yourself,  sir " 

Whether  the  congratulations  that  filled  the  air  and 
drowned  the  bewildered  father's  indignant  protesta- 
tions were  sincere,  or  not,  was  beside  the  question ;  for 
the  moment  they  bridged  over  an  awkward  situation, 
and  that  was  no  trifling  service.  The  visitors  rose, 
with  one  accord  to  take  their  departure,  warned  by  the 
lateness  of  the  hour  and  their  host's  inflexible  demean- 
or that  nothing  could  be  gained  at  this  time  by  a  longer 
stay.  Yet  they  had  satisfied  themselves  in  one  regard 
at  least.  There  was  no  doubting  the  domine's  loyalty 
to  his  native  tongue — that  was  clear  to  them  all — 
though  his  tolerance,  to  their  more  rigid  thinking, 
seemed  a  sad  fall  from  grace. 

A  species  of  truce  was  therefore  declared ;  the  subject 
under  discussion  being  held  in  abeyance.  With  that 
rooted  aversion  to  change  so  deeply  implanted  in  their 
natures  the  elders  and  deacons  were  not  a  little  relieved 
by  the  fact  that  the  affairs  of  the  Garden  Street  church 
were  to  remain  as  of  old  and,  mollified  in  some  meas- 
ure, they  sought  their  own  homes.  But  mistrust  and 
suspicion,  quiescent  though  they  seemed,  were  not 
sleeping;  they  lay  with  wide  open  eyes  watching  in- 
tently. 


178 


XVI 


Meanwhile  Peggy,  the  real  cause  of  all  this  perturba- 
tion, was  as  unconscious  of  the  disturbance  she  had 
created  as  the  pebble  cast  into  a  placid  pool  is  uncon- 
scious of  the  agitated  surface  of  the  waters  where  the 
widening  circles  communicate  their  knowledge  to  one 
another  long  after  the  little  stone  has  ceased  falling. 

During  the  early  stages  of  her  convalescence  her  at- 
titude toward  her  host  and  his  daughter  bristled  with 
arrogance  tinctured  by  a  certain  amount  of  suspicion, 
but  their  simple  kindliness  disarmed  her  completely 
and,  however  petulant  and  capricious  she  might  com- 
port herself  to  the  world  at  large,  she  was  full  of  a 
pretty  show  of  deference  and  gratitude  in  her  bearing 
to  them.  And  Peggy,  under  the  dominion  of  such  feel- 
ings, was  a  creature  of  better  and  softer  moods  than 
even  her  intimates  knew,  and  altogether  adorable. 

It  never  occurred  to  her,  being  for  the  moment  well 
pleased  with  her  surroundings,  that  her  presence  might 
prove  an  inconvenience  to  the  household.  Wherever 
she  went  welcome  always  ran  on  tiptoe  to  greet  her, 
and  the  fact  seemed  a  natural  one  even  among  these 
strangers,  who  gave  their  hospitality  with  such  unstint- 
ing hands.  Their  quaint  speech  and  manners  afforded 
her  infinite  diversion ;  and  the  tranquillity  of  their  life, 
coming  after  the  excitement  through  which  she  had 

179 


God's  Puppets 


passed,  she  was  not  slow  to  appreciate.  To  make  a 
virtue  of  necessity  was  never  a  characteristic  of  her 
nature,  but,  all  precedent  aside,  in  this  instance  she  was 
content  to  remain  in  the  haven  which  her  cousin  had  so 
unexpectedly  provided  for  her,  without  troubling  her- 
self with  questions  of  delicacy,  or  departure. 

Bellenden  surprised  her  one  afternoon  in  the  garden 
which,  emboldened  by  some  such  hope,  he  had  entered 
by  the  little  gate.  In  vain  had  he  presented  himself 
with  Larry  day  after  day  he  had  never  been  able  to  see 
her.  The  glimpse  of  a  vanishing  petticoat,  the  sound 
of  a  ringing  laugh  were  the  only  rewards  doled  out  to 
him  for  his  very  evident  concern  in  her  well-being.  A 
swift  thrill  of  elation  passed  through  him  as  he  recog- 
nized her  from  a  distance  and  perceived  that  she  was 
alone,  save  for  Annetje's  old  hound.  She  was  seated 
on  the  ground  in  the  shade  of  a  cherry-tree,  leaning 
against  its  trunk,  with  the  dog  close  at  her  side.  The 
grass  all  around  her  was  splashed  with  little  sun-discs, 
dancing  down  through  the  lightly  moving  leaves  over- 
head and  one,  more  venturesome  than  the  others,  played 
in  and  out  of  the  soft  shadows  of  her  unpowdered  hair. 
The  boughs  above  were  shining  with  fruit  set  thick  like 
jewels — garnets  in  the  shade,  rubies  where  the  sun 
smote  them  against  the  turquoise  glory  of  the  sky. 
And  so  quiet  was  she,  and  so  much  a  part  of  the  sum- 
mer loveliness,  that  the  robins  flew  fearlessly  about  in 
their  wholesale  maraudings  and  the  bees  hummed  in 
lazy  circles  in  the  golden  air. 

He  made  his  way  noiselessly  across  the  grass,  which 
gave  no  hint  of  his  coming  save  to  the  finer  hearing  of 
the  hound,  who  stirred  into  instant  attention.  With 

1 80 


A  Little  Provincial 

her  free  hand  Peggy  drew  the  dog  back  and,  uncon- 
scious of  the  watching  eyes,  laid  her  cheek  against  his 
sober  face.  He  submitted  to  her  caresses  stolidly,  but 
as  soon  as  he  was  released  he  bounded  off  to  meet  the 
new-comer  with  a  quick,  glad  bark. 

Bellenden  put  him  by  with  a  hasty  touch  and  came 
around  in  front  of  the  girl. 

"  Have  you  no  welcome  for  me,  too  ?  "  he  demanded. 

She  disregarded  his  outstretched  hand  and  strove  for 
an  air  of  indifference,  but  all  the  color  in  the  cherries 
above  her  seemed  on  the  moment  to  be  concentrated  in 
her  cheeks.  She  cast  a  helpless  glance  around,  then, 
seeing  that  flight  was  not  possible,  she  met  his  eyes  half 
defiantly. 

"  Faith,  Joris  is  the  older  friend,  I  doubt  not.  I'd 
not  forestall  him." 

"  Then  imitate  him." 

She  was  mistress  of  herself  in  an  instant. 

"  La,  Cousin  Bellenden,"  she  tittered,  "  is  this  how 
you'd  spoil  my  pretty  manners  ?  Fie,  sir !  to  counsel  a 
young  lady  to  fall  upon  you  as  Joris  has  done  and  kiss 
your  hand,  and  frisk,  and  caper  with  no  becoming  sense 
of  dignity.  I  wonder  whatever  my  mamma  would  say, 
could  she  hear  you  now,  and  she  always  declaring  you 
the  very  pink  of  propriety." 

"  You  are  pleased  to  be  merry." 

"  Oh !  '  your  only  jig-maker,'  as  the  man  in  the  play 
says.  Well,  'tis  better  being  merry  than  sad  on  a  day 
like  this." 

"  Will  you  not  bid  me  welcome,  Peggy  ?  " 

"  As  many  times  as  you  may  desire,  seeing  that  you 
must  be  wofully  out  of  humor  because  the  mistress  of 

181 


God's  Puppets 


this  garden  is  absent  and  I  so  indifferently  fill  her  place. 
But  the  rose  not  being  by,  the  humbler  flower  may  play 
the  queen.  You  are  very  welcome,  sir." 

"  I  vow  I'd  expected  better  treatment " 

"  From  me,  or  from  the  rose  ?  Truly,  by  this,  you 
must  have  learned  that  a  man's  expectation  and  its  frui- 
tion are  seldom  on  bowing  acquaintance.  The  surest 
way  of  being  pleased  is  to  expect — nothing.  What  do 
they  say  abroad  ?  " 

"  They  still  talk  of  Touchstone's  victory.'* 

Her  eyes  fell. 

"  Ungenerous !     I  had  not  thought  that  of  you." 

"  A  woman's  thoughts  and  a  man's  expectations  end 
of tenest  in  disappointment.  Shall  we  cry  quits  ?  'Tis 
true  that  at  the  coffee-houses  they  still  remember  the 
run,  and  that  deeply;  too  many  were  losers  through 
their  lack  of  confidence  in  the  little  lad  from  home  to 
make  forgetfulness  possible.  I  know  of  no  wound 
so  slow  of  healing  as  that  which  the  purse  suffers. 
But  no  one  has  yet  hazarded  a  guess  as  to  the  jockey's 
identity — that  danger  may  pass.  'Twas  a  fearful  risk, 
Peggy." 

He  put  his  hand  on  hers  where  it  lay  on  the  great 
dog's  head,  and,  for  the  moment  subdued  by  the  gravity 
of  his  manner,  she  let  it  rest  without  stirring  her  own. 

"  I  thought  you  would  be  killed,  child."  His  voice 
was  shaken  by  a  deeper  feeling. 

She  flung  his  touch  pettishly  aside. 

"  Lud,  you'd  a  pretty  confidence  in  my  horsemanship, 
Captain  Bellenden,  and  I  thank  you.  There  was  small 
danger.  I  owe  Touchstone  something  for  his  lack  of 
manners,  though,  poor  beast,  he  was  not  so  much  to 

182 


A  Little  Provincial 

blame  after  all.     Never  did  I  see  such  a  great,  gaping, 
vulgar  crowd.     Is  my  mother  well  ?  " 

"  Lord  Lofters  could  give  you  more  trustworthy  in- 
formation." 

"  Hmn !  Sits  the  wind  in  that  quarter?  I'd  best  be 
going  home — perhaps.  Tell  me,"  she  threw  him  an 
arch  glance,  "  is  there  anything  of  shorter  life  than  a 
man's  love  ?  " 

"  Unless  it  be  a  woman's." 

"  La,  the  old  trick !  I  might  have  remembered  that 
the  pot  will  always  call  the  kettle  black.  Well,  I'll  stay 
here  and  dream  of  faith." 

"  I  have  thought—  "  he  paused,  disconcerted  by  her 
eyes.  He  was  as  ignorant  as  the  others  of  the  storm 
which  was  gathering  about  the  quiet  household  and  at- 
tributed the  domine's  more  broken  appearance  to  his 
age,  but  it  seemed  to  him,  remembering  that  fact,  that 
they  had  already  trespassed  too  long  upon  his  hospital- 
ity. "  I  have  thought,  Peggy,  now  that  you  are  so  far 
recovered  of  your  hurt,  it  would  be  better  every  way  if 
you  were  to  leave  here.  The  domine  is  old  and  prob- 
ably unused  to  visitors,  and  this  was  to  be  but  a  tem- 
porary asylum " 

"  And  where  to  go  ?  "  Her  manner  was  so  meek  that 
it  deceived  him. 

"  Your  friend  still  waits  for  you  at  Albany." 

"  The  boat  that  was  to  carry  me  to  her  carried 
my  excuses  instead,  she — knowing  me  as  she  does — 
knows,  too,  that  I  sometimes  change  my  mind." 

He  laughed,  but  had  the  instant  wit  to  alter  the  sound 
into  something  resembling  a  cough.  She  darted  a  sus- 
picious glance  at  his  quiet  face  and  lowered  eyes. 

183 


God's  Puppets 


"  Besides,"  she  went  on  sharply,  "  I'd  run  the  risk  of 
discovery  surely,  if  I  went  by  public  transport,  for  none 
of  my  mother's  ships  are  sailing  again  this  month — 
there'd  be  always  the  chance  of  some  acquaintance 
aboard." 

"  You  say  true ;  yet  with  this  constant  coming  and 
going  of  your  friends  you  run  another  danger.  Those 
who  look  to  see  you  in  Albany  will  think  it  strange  to 
find  you've  not  been  there,  and  their  reports  will  set 
others  wondering." 

"  I  wrote  Nancy  that  I  wasn't  in  the  humor  for 
gayety,  and  so  I  was  going  to  Crewe  instead.  I  care 
not  if  she  believed  it,  or  remembered  it  to  quote  me. 
La,  out  of  sight  is  out  of  mind  as  any  man  can  tell  you. 
I'm  not  of  so  much  importance  in  folks'  thoughts  as 
in  yours,  Cousin  Bellenden.  I  wonder,  such  being  the 
case,  that  you  seek  to  banish  me." 

"  I'd  not  banish  you  willingly,  unless  I  might  banish 
myself  at  the  same  time  and  to  the  same  place.  Tis 
only  for  your  sake,  child,  because  I  would  have  no  whis- 
per of  disgrace  attached  to  your  name.  It  should  be  as 
sweet  and  fair,"  he  looked  around  swiftly,  his  glance 
encompassing  the  beauty  of  the  earth  and  sky  within 
its  range,  then  it  came  back  to  the  face  before  him ;  she 
offered  the  only  comparison,  "  as  sweet  and  fair  as  its 
owner." 

"  Bravo,  Captain  Bellenden." 

He  flushed  under  her  jeering  tones  and  went  on  with 
heedless  precipitancy. 

"  Why  will  you  always  mock  ?  Before  God  I  swear 
your  name  is  dearer  to  me  than  my  own,  because  it  is 

184 


A  Little  Provincial 

yours,  because  I  hope  to  take  it  into  my  keeping  one 
day  and  give  you  mine  instead." 

A  short  silence  followed  his  daring  words.  She 
tugged  at  a  tuft  of  grass  without  speaking,  almost  as  if 
she  had  not  heard  him,  though  a  warm  flush  deepened 
perceptibly  along  her  face  and  throat.  A  robin  flut- 
tered past,  its  soft  wings  disclosing  the  rich  color  of 
its  breast  as  it  mounted  to  a  higher  bough  and  burst 
into  an  ecstasy  of  sound.  Little  tell-tale  of  what  its 
eyes  had  seen  in  passing,  a  man's  love,  and  that  curious 
thing — the  heart  of  a  girl.  Bellenden  moved  a  trifle 
nearer  the  quiet  figure  and  put  out  his  hand  to  touch 
her  shoulder.  She  was  on  her  feet  in  an  instant  facing 
him. 

"  Tell  me,"  she  demanded  in  that  unusually  gentle 
voice,  "  did  you  ever  lead  a  forlorn  hope?  " 

He  could  not  miss  her  significance. 

"  A  forlorn  hope,  child,"  he  laughed  as  he  said  it. 
"  How  shall  I  answer  you,  seeing  that  to  you  the  words 
mean  one  thing,  to  me  another  ?  With  us  soldiers  they 
stand  for  the  troop  sent  forward  to  perform  some 
service,  whereas  you  would  have  them  of  a  different 
nature.  And  yet,  often,  yours  is  the  truer  meaning, 
the  quest  is  hopeless  enough,  God  knows !  "  He  looked 
before  him  as  if  he  did  not  see  her,  as  indeed  was  the 
case  just  then.  His  face  kindled. 

"  It  ill  becomes  a  soldier  to  speak  of  his  prowess," 
he  went  on  a  moment  later,  "  but  once  the  good  fort- 
une was  mine  to  lead  such  a  charge.  If  you  will 
have  the  tale,  it  is  a  short  one.  The  battle  was  against 
us,  our  men  had  fallen  by  scores — you'd  not  have 
found  the  scene  a  pretty  one,  but  Pity  and  Mercy 

185 


God's  Puppets 


came  there  later  and  bent  above  it  and  soothed  away 
the  horrors.  There  was  a  gun  to  capture — a  hand- 
ful of  men  might  do  it,  or  die  in  the  attempt — and 
victory  was  swaying  in  the  balance.  That  outpost  ours, 
the  day  was  ours ;  if  not — the  enemy's.  And  our  gen- 
eral saw  it  in  the  flash  of  an  eye,  he  pointed  out  the 
work,  the  danger  as  well — he  would  not  command  us, 
yet  there  stayed  the  opportunity — grim  but  golden. 
Well,  a  man  has  only  one  life  to  live,  one  death  to  die — 
I  volunteered — I  and  some  others.  That  is  all." 

"  You  knew  no  fear?  " 

"  I  knew  the  fear  and  faced  it.  There  was  the  one 
chance  of  victory  set  against  awful  odds,  but  they  were 
worth  the  risking  to  clasp  it  close.  I  was  conqueror 
that  day." 

"  It  has  left  you  with  a  brave  spirit." 

"  It  has  left  me  with  the  will  to  dare  all  obstacles  to 
win  my  heart's  desire  in  love,  or  war." 

"  La,  I'd  rather  hear  about  the  latter  any  time  than 
the  former,  and  about  neither  just  at  present — "  she 
made  a  pretence  at  stifling  a  yawn.  "  I  marvel,"  she 
went  on,  "  that  you  should  care  to  fall  into  sentiments 
with  one  who  reads  you  so  well.  What's  to  gain  on 
my  part?  The  king's  shilling,  against  a  crown.  Since 
my  lord's  coming  I've  thought  often  of  a  coronet- 
shall  I — sha'n't  I? — And  I've  even  dreamed  of  a 
throne." 

"  You'd  grace  them  both,  my  pretty  Provincial." 

The  words  escaped  him,  smarting  as  he  was  beneath 
her  disdain,  before  he  realized  what  they  would  mean 
to  her ;  the  next  minute  he  could  have  bitten  his  tongue 
out  for  his  rashness.  She  gazed  at  him  in  silence  with 

186 


A  Little  Provincial 

angry,  reproachful  eyes  that  said  more  than  she  knew, 
then,  still  silent,  she  swept  past  him,  inflexible  of  face. 
/'  ne  nad  overtaken  her,  "  Peggy  -  " 


She  made  an  effort  to  shake  off  his  detaining  touch, 
but  her  fingers  were  like  snow  against  the  iron  of  his. 

"  Say  you'll  forgive  my  ill-temper,  child—  come,  say 
it.  I'll  not  let  you  go  until  you  do.  Tis  useless  to 
struggle,  you've  but  one  hand  to  fight  your  battles. 
I've  a  great  mind  to  kiss  you,  sweet." 

"  If  you  should  —  dare—"  she  panted,  "  and  I'll  not 
forgive  you.  What  !  call  me  provincial,  try  to  woo  me, 
to  win  me,  and  then,  because  I'll  not  listen  to  your  suit 
—  call  me  provincial  !  " 

"  I  never  meant  it,  I  swear.  You  know,  if  I  could, 
I'd  carry  you  home  to  England,  my  country  should  be 
yours.  You've  but  to  speak  the  word  and  the  domine 
here  will  say  his  say  -  " 

"  The  domine  —  oh  !  this  is  past  endurance.  And 
what  of  his  daughter,  sir?  " 

"  I  do  not  understand  you." 

"  What  of  your  pretty  speeches  to  her,  your  love- 
makings  —  trust  me,  I  know  something  of  the  world  and 
men." 

"  I  am  no  Lovelace,  madam  —  suppose  I  have  found 
some  pleasure  in  looking  at  a  pretty  girl,  in  being  with 
her,  the  matter  ends  there." 

She  uttered  a  sound  half  of  contempt,  half  of  dissent. 

"  Do  you  think  if  what  I  say  is  untrue,"  he  continued 
slowly,  "  that  I  would  have  had  so  little  respect  for  you 
as  to  bring  you  here  in  your  need?  I  told  you  that  day 
that  these  people  —  this  father  and  daughter  —  were  my 
friends,  and  I  told  you  the  honest  truth  —  they  are 

187 


God's  Puppets 


nothing  more.  You  chose  then  to  insult  me  and  them 
by  a  gross  suspicion — I  was  not  blind  to  it — you  choose 
to  hint  at  it  now.  Are  you  the  only  one  to  be  angered  ? 
Does  forgiveness  lie  alone  in  your  gift?  I,  too,  have 
something  to  pardon  and  I  pardon  you  so." 

He  stooped,  as  he  spoke,  and  kissed  her  full  on  her 
disdainful  mouth,  then  he  moved  away  from  her. 

"Jack  Bellenden  has  many  faults,  as  he  himself 
knows  well — it's  a  long  score ! — but  falsity  is  not  among 
them,  and  once  having  loved  he  will  love  on  to  the  end." 

"  Oh !  "  she  interrupted  in  a  voice  choked  with  anger, 
"  that's  what  it  is  to  be  a  man  and  presume  upon  your 
strength — the  strength  of  a  bully — to  overcome  a 
woman.  Swear  what  you  will,  I'll  not  believe  a  single 
word.  Not  ten  minutes  since  you  were  all  for  having 
me  leave  here,  and  why?  I'm  not  a  child.  I  can  see 
what  must  be  patent  to  everyone  but  the  poor  old  dom- 
ine — your  friend,  as  you  would  say.  Save  us  from 
such  friendship !  My  presence  in  this  household  makes 
too  great  a  demand  upon  the  time  of  Miss  who,  if  I 
was  not  here,  would  be  free  to  listen  to  your  philander- 
ings." 

"  Your  thoughts  do  you  scant  honor,  but  'tis  idle  for 
me  to  try  to  dispel  them ;  I  leave  that  task  to  your  cooler, 
more  generous  moments.  If  you  were  not  here,  neither 
should  I  be,  no  matter  how  much  I  may  have  frequented 
this  garden  in  the  past.  Let  a  man  see  Paradise  once 
and  he  is  not  content  with  a  lesser  glory.  Despite  your 
bitter  words  I  have  had  my  glimpse  this  day." 

"  And  that  will  have  to  suffice  you.  Have  you  for- 
got that  a  man's  presumption  lost  him  Paradise?  As 
it  was  then,  so  is  it  now." 

188 


A  Little  Provincial 

"  The  expulsion  was  not  so  hard,  since  the  woman 
went  with  him.  If  you  parallel  the  case,  Peggy,  what 
is  lost  is  regained  a  thousand-fold." 

"  You  go  too  fast  for  me.  I  have  neither  the  wit, 
nor  the  inclination,  to  follow  you.  Our  ways  lie  apart, 
as  your  discernment  should  have  taught  you  long  ago." 

"  Then  it's  good-by  Paradise,"  he  bowed  low  and 
turned  to  take  his  departure.  "  For  the  present,"  he 
amended  over  his  shoulder. 

"  For  always.  A  wiser  man  would  know  that  the 
banishment  was  eternal,  but  la,  your  Mr.  Pope  under- 
stood some  natures  well  when  he  said :  '  fools  rush  in, 
where  angels  fear  to  tread.'  " 

"Mr.  Pope  was  a  cynical,  captious  little  man  who 
would  have  been  glad  to  scale  Paradise  in  any  guise. 
But  I  thank  you,  child,  for  quoting  him,  since  you  show 
me  there  is  still  a  way  back  by  daring  to  attain;  the 
folly  would  lie  in  disregarding  it  to  my  thinking." 

She  bit  her  lip  in  vexation  and  fell  to  tapping  the 
ground  with  her  little,  slippered  foot.  He  waited  a 
moment,  then  he  spoke  more  gravely. 

"  I'll  not  weary  you  further  with  my  presence  since 
it  seems  so  distasteful  to  you.  But  if  I  can  serve  you 
in  any  way,  command  me ;  my  time,  my  love,  my  life  are 
at  your  service,  though  until  you  need  any,  or  all  of 
them,  I  will  take  good  care  that  there  shall  be  no  intru- 
sion on  my  part." 

He  walked  a  few  steps  from  her,  then  turned  again. 

"  Surely  now  that  Eden  is  closing  upon  me,  you  will 
bid  me  good-by,  Peggy  ?  " 

"  With  all  my  heart,"  she  cried  tartly.  "  Good-by ! 
I  never  said  the  words  more  cheerfully,  not  even  to  a 
toothache." 

189 


XVII 

PEGGY  AND  ANNETJE 

Annetje's  room  was  lighted  by  two  bayberry  wax 
candles  which  stood,  like  diminutive  link-boys  erect  and 
important  in  their  conscious  splendor,  upon  the  nar- 
row mantel.  One  tallow  dip  was  the  usual  allowance, 
and  that  only  in  winter,  but  with  the  visitor's  coming 
the  old  order  of  things  had  been  overthrown  and 
Heilke,  tremblingly  guarding  her  store-closet,  doled 
out  the  evidences  of  her  thrift  with  a  rage  that  was 
none  the  less  bitter  because  it  could  not  leap  its  bounds 
as  far  as  the  chief  offender  was  concerned. 

Peggy,  accustomed  to  the  brilliancy  of  many  lustres 
in  her  own  home  and  not  aware  of  the  concessions  made 
in  her  favor,  secretly  termed  the  place  '  villainously 
lit/  even  when  it  was  bravely  putting  forth  this  un- 
heard-of show  of  wealth  which  dazzled  its  mistress  and 
filled  her  with  pride  in  that  she  had  given  of  the  best 
the  house  held,  wresting  it  from  the  hand  of  authority 
at  a  cost  undreamed  of  by  the  guest. 

Heilke,  on  her  way  to  her  room,  grumbled  wrathfully 
as  she  came  in  sight  of  the  open  door.  What  had  God 
put  a  moon  in  the  heavens  for,  unless  it  was  to  serve 
His  purpose  ?  Search  the  streets  of  the  town,  and  not 
a  lantern  would  be  found  blazing  anywhere.  Man 
knew  better  than  to  set  up  his  little  trumpery  light  in 
the  face  of  the  great  luminary.  And  moon,  or  no  moon, 

190 


Peggy  and  Annetje 

couldn't  a  girl  go  to  bed  in  the  soft,  summer  dark — 
what  need  had  she  of  candles  ?  And  such  candles ! 

The  low  rumble  was  like  the  growl  of  distant  thun- 
der. It  came  nearer,  increasing  in  volume  as  the  steps 
lagged  momentarily  at  the  bar  of  light  cast  out  into  the 
passage-way.  It  was  like  treading  upon  gold — gold 
thrown  underfoot  wantonly  and  not  to  be  recovered  by 
any  effort.  A  glance  at  the  shelf  revealed  the  candles 
to  their  creator,  slim,  straight,  pale  in  color  like  a  leaf 
set  against  the  sun,  with  a  crowning  glory  of  flame. 
She  gulped  hard.  By  judicious  management  each 
ought  to  last  a  week,  perhaps  longer,  before  entrusted 
to  the  save-all,  and  here — for  the  sake  of  a  fine  lady's 
whim !  the  two  would  not  live  out  the  night.  A  thief 
had  crawled  into  one  and  the  sight  was  too  much  for 
the  onlooker.  She  made  a  quick  swoop  into  the  room, 
descended  upon  the  candle  and  expelled  the  luckless 
intruder  with  a  great  show  of  wrath.  The  proceeding 
hardly  occupied  a  moment's  space ;  she  was  a  large,  un- 
wieldy woman,  but  extraordinarily  quick  in  all  her  ac- 
tions, then  with  a  look  of  undisguised  contempt  at  the 
girl  who,  still  dressed,  was  lolling  upon  the  bed,  she 
stalked  majestically  away. 

Peggy  had  a  book  open  beside  her  upon  the  pillow, 
though  she  was  not  reading  and  had  not  turned  a  page 
for  an  hour ;  she  was  too  far  from  the  light  for  a  book 
to  be  much  of  a  pastime  as  any  person,  gifted  with  pene- 
tration, must  have  discovered.  She  started  up  at  the 
unwonted  intrusion,  angry  in  her  turn,  and  met  the  old 
woman's  eyes,  understanding  their  meaning  more  clear- 
ly than  if  their  owner  had  hurled  an  anathema  at  her 
head,  for  a  glance  is  at  home  in  any  language  and  needs 

191 


God's  Puppets 


no  lexicon  to  define  it.  She  did  not  speak,  however, 
and  her  adversary  passed  on  unchallenged.  The  girl 
listened  to  the  heavy  footfalls  growing  fainter  each 
moment  then,  when  a  door  had  been  closed  with  wrath- 
ful significance,  she  made  a  wry  face. 

"  There's  one  who'd  be  of  my  Captain  Bellenden's 
way  of  thinking,"  she  said  half  aloud,  "  glad  enough,  I 
warrant,  to  have  me  leave  bag  and  baggage,  and  the 
sooner  the  better." 

She  looked  before  her.  Should  she  go?  If  she  did, 
would  it  not  be  a  tacit  admission  that  her  actions  were 
guided  by  his  will— dependent  on  his  say-so?  The 
comfort  of  her  present  position  was  owing  to  him,  the 
care  and  skill  of  the  domine,  and  Annetje's  gentle  nurs- 
ing were  but  the  result  of  his  provision  for  her.  And 
if  he  had  been  different,  or  not  by  to  help  her,  what 
would  have  happened  ?  Her  cheeks  flamed  at  the  prob- 
ability; her  mother's  displeasure,  the  admiration  and 
the  contempt  of  the  town  passed  before  her  in  swift 
procession.  She  had  escaped  the  danger,  yet,  safe 
though  she  was,  she  suffered  from  it  almost  as  keenly  in 
her  imagination.  But  he  had  helped  her  with  the  deli- 
cacy and  tenderness  of  a  woman,  the  strength  and  re- 
sourcefulness of  a  man.  The  fairness  of  her  name  was 
more  to  him  than  the  fairness  of  his  own.  The 
thoughts  wove  themselves  into  an  unending  pattern  in 
her  mind;  they  had  come  between  her  and  the  printed 
page  earlier  that  evening  making  it  impossible  to  follow 
the  thread  of  the  story.  Nor  were  they  the  only  ones ; 
anger,  outraged  pride,  triumph,  met  with  them  and  a 
feeling,  she  could  not  define,  which  crept  in  and  out  of 
the  maze  like  a  will-o'-the-wisp  vanishing,  when  she 

192 


Peggy  and  Annetje 

sought  to  detain  it  with  the  grasp  of  reason,  to  mock 
her  from  a  distance. 

Her  fingers  lifted  the  cover  of  the  book  almost  shyly 
and  fluttered  the  fly-leaf  apart.  It  was  not  for  the  first 
time.  "  Jack  Bellenden."  The  words  leapt  up  and 
challenged  her  glance.  She  smiled  lazily,  but  confi- 
dently, to  herself.  Even  her  amusement  he  had  pro- 
vided for,  and  it  was  through  no  fault  of  his  that  she 
had  yawned  over  the  trials  and  adventures  of  Joey 
Andrews  and  old  Parson  Adams,  nor  that  her  mind 
continually  wandered  from  that  journey  to  the  seat  of 
the  Boobies  to  the  pleasant  sunlit  slope  of  Annetje's 
garden.  The  scene  stood  out  suddenly  before  her  as 
if  it  had  been  conjured  into  being  by  his  name.  The 
trees  dreaming  against  the  tender  blue  of  the  sky,  the 
swift  coming  and  going  of  happy  birds,  the  gleam  of 
a  butterfly's  wing  in  the  sun,  the  glowing  touches  of 
color  in  the  flower-beds  and  the  breath  of  fragrance 
and  well-being  that  everywhere  pervaded  the  air.  Her 
smile  deepened. 

She  would  not  go.  If  she  must  try  to  avoid  any 
smirch  on  her  name  she  would  remain  where  she  was, 
for  nothing  could  endanger  its  purity  in  this  little  peace- 
ful haven.  She  sat  up  leaning  on  her  elbow,  a  smile 
half  of  derision,  half  of  satisfaction,  curving  her  lips 
as  she  noted  the  different  articles  of  furniture  around 
her.  Something  like  contempt  for  their  plainness 
stirred  her  momentarily  and  the  remembrance  of  her 
own  room,  only  a  short  distance  away,  came  swiftly  to 
her  mind.  She  put  the  picture  by  and  yet — how  An- 
netje's eyes  would  widen  at  sight  of  the  silken  curtains 
there,  at  the  long  mirror  that  reflected  the  beauty  of  the 

193 


God's  Puppets 


apartment  into  double  seeming,  at  the  elaborately 
carved  wood  and  gleaming  brass  and  at  all  the  para- 
phernalia of  the  dressing-table — the  little  boxes  made 
of  Battersea  enamel,  or  curiously  wrought  in  silver, 
and  the  numberless  bottles  and  jars  containing  sweet- 
smelling  waters,  unguents,  and  cosmetics.  Would  she 
understand  how  their  owner  could  find  content  in  these 
humbler  surroundings? 

The  high  feather-bed  occupied  the  space  at  one  side 
of  the  room  opposite  the  mantel  with  its  clean,  sweet 
linen  frill,  and  between  the  chintz-curtained  windows 
stood  a  chest  of  brass-ringed  drawers  surmounted  by 
a  small  mirror  in  a  narrow,  black  frame ;  farther  along, 
a  low  table,  holding  a  silver-clasped  Bible  and  some 
Psalm-books,  was  drawn  out  a  trifle  from  the  side 
wall;  these,  with  the  addition  of  a  chair,  from  which 
was  hung  a  book  suspended  by  a  ribbon  passed  through 
the  rings  at  the  back  of  the  volume,  and  a  little  wooden 
stool,  made  up  the  plenishings.  The  walls,  unlike  the 
tapestried  ones  Peggy  knew,  were  white  and  bare  of 
ornament  save  for  two  samplers,  one,  with  the  colors 
almost  as  fresh  as  when  alphabet  and  numerals  were 
fixed  there  by  Annetje's  fingers  in  her  childhood,  the 
other  faded  and  dim — the  letters,  the  basket  of  roses, 
the  verse  of  Scripture  and  the  name  Katrina  de  Vos  all 
partaking  of  the  same  lifeless  hue.  Peggy,  since  her 
coming,  had  studied  both  pieces  of  needle-work  with 
unflagging  interest,  learning  the  alphabet  and  how  to 
count  under  Annetje's  instruction.  She  had  mastered 
both  verses,  but  the  one  on  the  older  sampler  had  taken 
the  firmest  hold  on  her  memory.  She  repeated  it  softly 
to  herself : 

194 


Peggy  and  Annetje 

" '  Beter  is  een  goede  name  dan  goede  olie.' " 

A  good  name !  How  everything  came  back  to  that. 
No  matter  what  the  time,  the  rule  of  the  Preacher,  or 
that  of  His  Majesty  George  the  Second,  nor  where  the 
place — it  was  the  one,  priceless  possession.  And  yet  it 
was  as  brittle  as  glass,  its  beauty  so  perishable  that  the 
breath  of  public  disfavor  would  dim  it  past  repair. 
She  stirred  defiantly.  Why  should  she  trouble  herself 
with  these  fancies?  She  had  done  nothing  wrong, 
wild,  yes — unwomanly,  yes — but  not  wrong.  People 
might  blame  her,  would  blame  her  without  a  doubt  if 
the  truth  were  ever  known,  still  they  could  accuse  her 
of  no  real  harm.  She  put  the  thought  aside. 

"  Annetje,"  she  called  softly. 

There  was  a  slight  sound  of  someone  moving  in  the 
next  room  and  a  moment  later,  in  response  to  the  sum- 
mons, the  girl  entered,  blinking  a  little  as  she  came 
into  the  light. 

"  What  were  you  doing,"  Peggy  demanded  per- 
emptorily, "  sleeping  or  dreaming  ?  " 

Annetje  gave  a  low  laugh. 

"  Toget'er  t'e  two  go ;  put  not  many  treams  haf  I  v'en 
I  sleep." 

"  What  girl  doesn't  know  that  the  best  ones  come 
when  her  eyes  are  open — wide  open?  Confess,  were 
yours  closed  ?  " 

"  No-o,  py  t'e  vintow  vas  I  kneeling  toing  not'ing, 
joost  looking  out  at  t'e  night." 

"  Was  that  the  way  to  treat  your  friend  ?  " 

"  Nefer  a  girl  frient  haf  I  hat  pefore,"  Annetje  cried 
in  delight,  amazed  at  this  sudden  graciousness  on  the 
part  of  her  guest  who,  all  that  evening,  had  borne  her- 

195 


God's  Puppets 


self  with  a  chilling  demeanor  which  precluded  any 
companionship,  "  not  one." 

"  Oh  lud !  I've  had  a  plenty  of  'em,  horrid  missish 
things  who'll  kiss  you  one  minute  and  scratch  you  the 
next.  We  aint  a  very  nice  lot,  if  the  truth's  spoke  of 
us." 

"  Put  you  are  not — nef er — of  t'at  sort  ?  " 

"  Bless  you !  my  dear,  no,  a  thousand  times  no,  I'm 
what  your  fancy  paints  me — just  perfection."  Peg- 
gy broke  off  to  laugh  and,  for  an  instant,  her  glance 
strayed  to  Annetje's  sampler  and  a  swift  picture  of 
the  lonely  child  making  it  day  after  day  came  into  her 
mind. 

"  When  men  fall  out,"  she  continued,  "  swords  are 
the  best  weapons,  or  pistols — though  they  make  such 
a  prodigious  noise  I  can't  endure  'em — and  it's  so  many 
paces,  then — '  Gentlemen,  are  you  ready  ?  One,  two, 
three — hack,  or  blaze  away '  and  honor's  satisfied. 
What  round  eyes,  sweet  ?  La,  we  women  do  different. 
Our  tongues  are  our  swords  and  we  don't  fight  fair. 
If  we  can  stab  in  the  back  so  much  the  better,  if  we  can 
keep  on  stabbing — best  of  all." 

"  Put  Miss  Crewe " 

"But  Miss  Simplicity?" 

"  You  to  not  vant  to  pe  a  man  ?  " 

"  I  tried  once,  as  you  know,  and  I  didn't  like  it — I 
looked  so  outrageous  ugly.  What,  be  one  of  those 
great,  clumsy  creatures  all  feet  and  hands?  Not  for 
the  universe.  And  I  wouldn't  be  a  fop,  thank  you,  with 
his  silly,  simpering  airs  and  his  '  oh  luds ! '  and  '  sink 
mes ! '  and  his  mincing,  little  steps  and  eye-rollings  at 
the  sight  of  a  Petticoat  just  like  a  clucking  hen  running 

196 


Peggy  and  Annetje 

from  danger.  But  to  be  master  of  one's  fate — to  do 
great  things — to  lead  desperate  charges — "  she  checked 
herself  quickly,  a  smile  curving  the  corners  of  her  lips. 
"  Ah !  that's  a  different  matter — still  even  the  bravest 
is  slave  to  a  girl's  whim,  trembles  and  goes  all  colors 
before  her,  hems  and  haws,  and  looks  the  fool,"  her 
laughter — clear  as  a  thrush's  note — interrupted  her. 
"  La,  I'd  rather  be  the  girl,"  she  resumed,  "  and  wield 
that  power.  Heaven  is  wiser  than  we  are,  child,  and 
we  won't  quarrel  with  what  we  are." 

"  You — how  can  I  say  it  ? — t'ere  haf — perhaps — peen 
many  ?  " 

"  By  the  thousands  have  I  slain  them,  yea,  by  the 
tens  of  thousands.  In  the  morning  I  have  gone  forth 
and  when  evening  hath  come  I  have  not  stayed  my 
hand." 

"  T'at  you  couldt  pe  cruel,  I  treamedt  not." 

"  I  don't  know  the  word,  believe  me.  But  a  truce  to 
the  silly  creatures,  they're  not  worth  your  sympathies. 
Prick  'em,  and  they  bleed  wounded  vanity,  naught  else. 
I'd  like  to  set  you  down  at  some  rout,  child,  and  see  the 
havoc  you'd  make  in  their  ranks — there's  not  a  woman 
of  us  all  but  would  hate  you " 

Annetje's  lips  parted  in  a  smile  of  frank  vanity ;  she 
rested  her  arms  on  the  top  of  the  foot-board  and  leant 
toward  her  companion. 

"  Not  you." 

"  Even  I,  Flatterer^  I  should  probably  poison  you  at 
the  very  least.  How  do  you  know  that  I  don't  hate  you 
already?" 

"  Put  for  t'at,  no  cause  haf  you — something  fery 
wrong  must  I  first  to  unto  you." 

197 


God's  Puppets 


"  Does  hate  grow  that  way  ?  Don't  steal  my  broth- 
er's heart  then,  Miss  Sly  Eyes." 

"  No  tanger  is  t'ere  to  t'e  young  man." 

"  Nor  my  cousin's." 

A  quick  wave  of  color  flushed  the  girl's  face  and 
dyed  even  her  throat  crimson.  Peggy,  watching, 
smiled  almost  cruelly. 

"  No  tanger  is  t'ere,"  she  mimicked. 

Annetje  stood  erect,  her  breath  coming  hard. 

"Is  itt'at  you  lof  him?" 

There  was  a  short  pause  during  which  the  two  girls 
eyed  each  other  unflinchingly.  It  was  the  first  time 
the  subject  had  been  broached  between  them,  though 
they  had  played  with  it  indirectly  ever  since  the  be- 
ginning of  their  acquaintance,  each  eager  to  discover 
the  other's  real  attitude. 

"  Who — I  ?  A  hopeless  passion  that  I  may  recover 
from  in  time  if  I  have  change  of  air  and  can  drink 
asses'  milk — but  not  else.  Was  there  ever  so  distress- 
ful a  plight  ?  "  Peggy  stopped  to  laugh  at  the  mystifi- 
cation in  the  face  before  her,  then  her  voice  grew  grave. 

"  Tell  me,  child,  do  you  love  him  ?  " 

"  T'e  frient  of  my  fat'er  is  he,  ant  fery  kint  has  he 
likevise  peen  to  me ;  prout  am  I  of  his  f rientship,  Miss 
Crewe." 

"  Spoken  like  a  true  woman  and  so  understood. 
We're  not  such  fools  after  all,  are  we,  dear?  " 

Again  the  mocking,  rippling  laughter  held  that  irri- 
tating quality  that  made  the  blood  tingle  in  Annetje's 
veins  and  filled  her  with  a  helpless  feeling  of  resentment. 
She  did  not  know  what  to  think  of  this  bewildering 
creature,  with  her  clear  gaze  and  her  frank  admissions 

198 


Peggy  and  Annetje 

that  told  everything — and  nothing — in  a  breath.  Some 
sense  of  courage,  however,  kept  her  from  changing  her 
position;  she  remained  quite  still  under  the  merciless 
scrutiny  that  seemed  to  penetrate  to  her  very  heart 
through  the  flimsy  veil  of  an  acknowledged  friend- 
ship. 

Suddenly,  in  the  tense  quiet  of  the  room,  the  atten- 
tion of  each  girl  was  attracted  to  a  moth  flying  about 
the  candles,  its  shadow  thrown  large  upon  wall  and 
ceiling.  They  watched  it  for  some  moments,  in  that 
strange  silence  that  had  settled  down  between  them,  as 
it  circled  around  the  light,  now  near,  now  remote, 
though  the  flame — with  the  steady  patience  of  a  fixed 
destiny — drew  it  continually  back  to  its  destruction.  It 
fell  at  last  with  fluttering  wings  to  the  chimney-ledge ; 
this  time  it  did  not  rise.  Peggy  was  off  the  bed  and 
bending  above  the  little  lifeless  thing  in  an  instant. 

"  There  are  none  who'd  blame  the  light,"  she  said, 
drily,  "  'twas  the  fault  of  the  moth  alone  and  it  had 
wings  beside." 

She  put  out  her  hand  and  extinguished  one  of  the 
candles,  watching  the  trail  of  smoke  that  ascended  slow- 
ly like  the  spirit  of  the  flame.  The  aromatic  smell  of 
the  bayberry  was  pungent  and  pleasing;  it  had  the 
savor  of  sunlit  pasturelands  in  its  breath.  She  turned 
toward  the  other  candle,  paused,  and  looked  back  over 
her  shoulder  at  her  companion  still  standing  by  the  bed, 
clasping  and  unclasping  the  knob  at  the  top  of  the  post 
with  nervous  fingers. 

"  My  cousin  was  here  this  afternoon  when  I  was  in 
the  garden,"  she  said  coldly.  "  He  thinks  now  that  I've 
recovered  I  had  better  go." 

199 


God's  Puppets 


Annetje  took  a  step  in  her  direction,  uttering  a  quick 
protest. 

"  But  I  shall  have  to  go  some  time,"  Peggy's  voice 
softened  at  the  other's  evident  distress. 

"  Most  true  is  t'at,  only  not  joost  now,  if  you  please. 
Fery  lonely  vill  it  pe  visout  you,  let  me  get  first  accus- 
tomedt  to  t'e  t'ought  of  your  going,  pefore  you  really 

go." 

Peggy  blew  out  the  candle. 

"  Draw  the  curtain  and  let  the  moonlight  in,  child. 
I  protest  I  think  you  like  me  after  all." 


200 


XVIII 

JAN  PRAA  SPEAKS  HIS  MIND 

Sunshine  and  little,  wandering  airs,  and  all  the 
ecstasy  of  June  at  its  full,  streamed  in  a  flood  of 
gold  into  the  Garden  Street  church — through  open 
doors  and  windows — where,  it  being  Saturday,  Jan 
Praa  was  making  his  preparations  for  the  next  day. 
It  was  his  custom  to  assume  a  different  manner  for 
each  of  his  vocations  as  another  man,  possessed  of  a 
larger  wardrobe,  might  have  dressed  the  parts  with 
fitness. 

As  gardener,  he  whistled  at  his  work,  or  croaked 
some  ancient  tune.  As  bell-ringer,  he  was  bluff  in  his 
demeanor  and  heartened  himself  with  a  low  chant  like 
the  singing  of  sailors  weighing  anchor,  or  bending  to 
their  oars.  As  voorleezer,  the  dignity  of  his  office  was 
increased  a  thousandfold  by  the  importance  of  his  car- 
riage, and  the  beauties  of  an  assured  religion  were  not 
half  so  worthily  evidenced  by  the  domine  in  his  minis- 
terial robes  as  by  his  subordinate. 

As  sexton,  however,  Jan  wore  his  honors  with  a 
difference.  The  austere  bearing  of  Sunday,  as  he  lin- 
gered near  the  door  before  assuming  the  role  of  voor- 
leezer, was  not  apparent  in  his  deportment  of  Saturday 
when  he  was  in  working-day  clothes,  and  when  he  al- 

20 1 


God's  Puppets 


lowed  himself  considerable  latitude.  Sing  he  did  not, 
whistle  he  did  not — such  conduct  would  have  seemed 
nothing  short  of  profanation  to  the  temple ;  but  as  he 
sanded  the  floor,  or  chased  stray  particles  of  dust  from 
the  pulpit  cushions,  he  kept  up  a  little  mumbling  talk 
— there  being  no  sound  quite  so  dear  to  him  as  that  of 
his  own  voice.  Yet  on  this  particular  morning  the  self- 
satisfaction,  which  usually  lightened  his  labors,  had 
little  effect  upon  him;  he  moved  about  flicking  his 
brush  half-heartedly.  Presently  he  paused  beneath  the 
pulpit  and  looked  up  at  the  desk  with  something  like 
consternation  in  his  face. 

"  I  remember  the  first  time  he  preached  there,"  he 
murmured  after  a  moment  in  a  troubled  tone.  "  If  it 
was  yesterday  it  couldn't  be  clearer  and  it  was  seven- 
and-thirty  years  ago  last  week.  Twas  on  St.  John's 
day,  I  mind  me,  and  he  made  a  picture  of  the  little, 
brown  herring-boats  leaving  the  Amstel,  dropping 
down  stream  abreast,  and  one  after  the  other,  on  their 
way  to  the  sea.  The  folks  didn't  think  it  seemly  to 
bring  them  into  a  sermon,  but  'twas  meant  for  a  figure, 
and  he  gave  them  doctrine  enough  before  he  got 
through.  'Twas  a  longish  sermon — a  longish  sermon 
— for  he  runs  to  words,  and  the  sand  fairly  galloping 
through  the  glass.  Seven  and  thirty  years!  and  I'd 
been  here  twice  a  twelvemonth  when  he  came,"  the 
old  sexton  broke  off  with  a  sigh  and  resumed  his 
polishing. 

It  was  apparent  to  him,  as  to  the  others,  that  for  once 
minister  and  people  were  at  variance,  and  not  one  of 
the  Consistory  felt  the  danger  which  hung  like  a  cloud 
over  the  church  as  keenly  as  did  its  old  servant.  Ever 

202 


Jan  Praa  Speaks  His  Mind 

since  Bellenden's  first,  mysterious  appearance  at  the 
parsonage  Jan  had  subjected  the  domine  to  the  most 
rigorous  supervision,  following  every  word  he  let  fall 
from  the  pulpit,  and  watching  him  jealously  to  dis- 
cover the  least  deviation  from  the  true  path  on  his  part. 
Several  times,  as  the  days  wore  on^  there  had  seemed 
as  a  sorry  reward  for  this  untiring  vigilance  a  new  note 
of  gentleness  in  the  minister's  teaching  and  a  less 
marked  insistence  on  the  sternness  of  his  creed.  They 
were  a  deeply  religious  people — that  little  congregation 
of  the  Garden  Street  church — but  their  piety  was  the 
terrible  piety  of  the  ancient  Hebrews  which  smote  hip 
and  thigh  without  mercy,  and  this  inexplicable  tender- 
ness from  the  domine's  lips  might  well  set  Jan  Praa 
wondering. 

"  He  weakens,  he  weakens,"  the  old  man  told  himself 
with  a  groan.  "  God  help  us,  when  will  the  others  see 
as  I  do?" 

It  was  a  long  while  before  they  perceived  any  lapse 
of  doctrine,  so  accustomed  were  they  to  the  familiar 
voice  as  almost  to  disregard  it,  as  the  noise  of  the  break- 
ers upon  the  shore  sinks  to  a  lulling  note  to  the  hearing 
used  to  their  thunders.  The  news  of  the  stranger  in 
the  domine's  household  was  the  first  intimation  of  the 
approaching  storm  and  aroused  the  folk  into  instant 
alertness.  There  would  be  no  fear  henceforth  of  nod- 
ding during  sermon-time,  though  the  summer  breeze 
wooed  never  so  languorously;  words,  looks,  gestures 
were  to  be  subjected  to  the  minutest  scrutiny  and  every 
man  and  woman  of  the  church  of  St.  Nicholas  became  a 
self-constituted  spy  to  act  in  its  interest. 

On  the  Sunday  following  the  visit  of  the  Consistory, 
203 


God's  Puppets 


which  had  become  public  talk,  Jan  listened  with  the 
hearing  of  the  entire  congregation,  it  seemed  to  him, 
to  the  domine's  words,  but  as  the  sermon  progressed 
peace  entered  the  voorleezer's  breast.  Never  had  the 
doctrine  been  so  forcibly  expounded,  never  had  the 
Dutch  tongue  sounded  more  majestic,  or  more  beauti- 
ful, than  as  it  came  from  the  sacred  desk.  Not  a  trace 
of  English  speech,  or  influence,  was  manifested  that 
day,  but  only  an  unusual  lingering  upon  the  words  as 
if  he,  who  uttered  them,  appreciated  their  charm  with 
new  significance  and  an  increase  of  tenderness,  perhaps, 
in  the  old  husky  voice ;  the  tenderness  of  a  father  for 
his  children— the  tenderness  and  love  that  had  grown 
and  grown  through  seven-and-thirty  years.  Plainly, 
the  domine  was  not  to  be  convicted  of  heresy  at  this 
time,  though  he  was  self-willed  and  obstinate  to  a  de- 
gree almost  past  pardoning. 

Since  then  nearly  a  fortnight  had  elapsed,  and  though 
the  error  of  his  way  had  been  clearly  indicated  to  Do- 
mine  Ryerssen  he  showed  no  disposition  to  act  upon 
either  the  suggestions,  or  the  admonitions,  bestowed  by 
elders  and  deacons.  Peggy  Crewe  still  laughed  and 
chattered  in  the  sombre,  old  house  and  sunned  her  saucy 
loveliness  in  the  glowing  garden.  An  ominous  calm 
settled  upon  the  waiting  church-people,  but  their  still- 
ness, like  that  of  the  tiger  about  to  spring,  held  the 
concentration  of  energy — not  of  repose — in  its  atti- 
tude. 

Jan  Praa  drew  his  sleeve  across  his  eyes,  trembling  a 
little,  then  he  passed  to  one  side  and  went  slowly  down 
the  aisle,  pausing  at  last  in  front  of  a  small  tablet  let 
into  the  wall.  The  record  was  not  a  long  one. 

204 


Jan  Praa  Speaks  His  Mind 

GEDACHTENIS: 
KATRINA  DE  VOS, 

GELIEFDE  VROUW  VAN  CORNELIS  RYERSSEN, 
GEBOREN   DEN  8  AUGUSTUS   1720, 

GESTORVEN  DEN  4  JUNY  1740. 

"DE  GEDACHTENISSE   DES  RECHTVEERDIGEN  SAL 
TOT  ZEGENINGE  ZYN." 

He  stood  gazing  at  the  inscription,  reading  it  again 
and  again;  suddenly  he  struck  the  stone  fiercely  as  if 
it  were  some  sentient  thing  deserving  of  his  anger. 

"  Lies,  lies,  lies,"  he  cried  aloud,  "  I  might  have 
known  when  I  held  my  peace,  abetting  him,  that  evil 
would  descend  upon  this  church.  Our  God  is  a  God 
of  truth  and  His  judgments  will  not  be  delayed  for- 
ever." 

He  broke  off  with  something  like  a  sob  choking  him, 
for  his  wandering  glance  had  fallen  upon  the  lower 
edge  of  the  tablet  which,  jutting  out  like  a  small  shelf, 
held  a  bunch  of  dead  roses.  He  lifted  them  almost 
tenderly  and  dropped  them  into  his  apron,  gathering  up 
the  stray  leaves  that  had  been  jostled  apart  by  his  touch, 
all  traces  of  wrath  gone  from  his  face.  The  faded 
petals  in  his  hand  were  like  little  keys  which,  on  the 
moment,  unlocked  the  days  of  the  past  and  showed  him 
the  simple  unfolding  of  Annetje's  life.  Would  he  have 
had  it  different— clouded  ?  He  did  not  answer  the  in- 
sistent questions,  though  the  past  and  the  present  fought 
long  within  him.  Yet  his  duty — his  duty.  What  was 
required  of  him?  He  could  see  the  domine's  duty 
plainly  enough — trust  a  man's  eyes  to  perceive  what  his 

205 


God's  Puppets 


neighbor  ought  to  do! — but  his  own  was  hidden  in 
darkness. 

Presently  his  face  cleared  a  little  of  its  perplexity,  as 
the  sun  comes  out  in  a  feeble  way  through  a  mass  of 
clouds,  and  something  like  resolution  kindled  its  flame 
in  his  glance.  He  straightened  himself  gradually  and 
drew  a  long,  deep  breath ;  then  he  put  out  his  hand  and 
touched  the  tablet  again,  but  this  time  with  fingers  that 
held  a  rough  caress  in  passing.  The  next  moment  he 
turned  away. 

Ordinarily  Jan  considered  himself  a  brave  man ;  the 
doggedness  of  ancestors  who  had  resisted  Philip  II.  of 
Spain  lived  in  him  after  some  fashion,  yet  despite  that 
fact  he  felt  his  courage  desert  him  rapidly  at  the  mere 
prospect  of  the  task  which  now  loomed  big  on  his  im- 
mediate horizon. 

"  Why  should  the  pleasing  face  of  a  gentlewoman 
terrify  me?  "  he  muttered  as  he  hastened  home,  leaving 
the  church  to  sweeten  itself  in  the  summer  air  and  sun- 
shine. "  I've  encountered  many  angry  men  in  my  day 
and  have  not  been  fearful  above  measure.  All  flesh  is 
grass ;  there's  naught  to  tremble  at  in  a  weed,  Jan  lad." 

Fortunately  for  him,  on  his  arrival  at  the  house, 
Heilke  was  absent,  and  he  crawled  noiselessly  through 
the  deserted  kitchen  and  up  the  stairs  to  his  own  room. 
There  he  decked  himself  out  in  his  Sunday  apparel,  in 
much  the  same  spirit  that  a  certain  brave,  military 
leader  used  to  don  his  best  uniform  on  the  eve  of  a 
battle  honoring  the  awful  hour  with  all  pomp  and  cir- 
cumstance. Jan,  however,  despite  his  trappings,  did 
not  present  a  martial  front  even  to  his  own  fancy.  Had 
he  been  a  catholic  his  next  move  would  have  been  to 

206 


Jan  Praa  Speaks  His  Mind 

throw  himself  upon  his  knees  to  implore  the  aid  of  his 
patron  saint,  but  his  theology  did  not  admit  such  ap- 
peals for  assistance,  though  it  did  not  exclude  a  very 
fervent  worship  on  his  part  of  some  of  the  heroes  of 
the  Fatherland.  These  illustrious  personages  he  re- 
garded in  the  light  of  lesser  gods  and,  when  hard 
pressed  in  previous  emergencies,  he  had  often  fortified 
himself  with  a  mere  mention  of  their  names;  as  if,  by 
so  doing,  their  strength  descended  upon  him  and  kept 
him  true  to  their  standards.  Once  dressed,  he  began 
to  mumble  them  eagerly  to  himself,  checking  them  off 
on  his  fingers  much  as  a  devout  monk  tells  his  beads, 
and  though  he  would  have  been  appalled  at  the  dis- 
covery with  each  name  his  heart  sent  up  a  mute,  little 
prayer.  "  William  the  Silent — Admiral  Home — 
Count  Egmont ! — brave  men — brave  men  all !  " 

He  hesitated  on  the  threshold,  then,  as  if  thrilling 
with  the  power  he  had  invoked,  he  shut  the  door  be- 
hind him  thus  closing  off  retreat,  and  took  his  way 
through  the  silent  house.  The  enemy  he  was  about  to 
encounter  was  not  within  doors,  that  much  the  quiet 
told  him ;  and  he  was  not  sorry  for  two  reasons.  First, 
because  the  meeting  was  deferred  for  a  little  longer, 
and  next  because  he  was  more  at  ease  in  the  open,  on 
ground  he  knew  and  loved  and  which  owed  much  of 
its  beauty  to  him.  He  reached  the  kitchen  and  peeped 
cautiously  in ;  nothing  was  stirring  there  save  a  trem- 
ulous vine  which  danced  lightly  on  the  oblong  patch 
of  sunshine  upon  the  floor.  Heilke's  voice,  grumbling 
in  the  still-room,  and  the  tinkle  of  Annetje's  laughter 
came  to  him  with  semi-distinctness.  He  started  at  the 
sounds,  wavered  an  instant,  then  fled  precipitately  to 

207 


God's  Puppets 


the  garden  beyond.  The  quiet  and  harmony  there 
stilled  his  fears  in  some  measure  and  he  passed  slowly 
along,  his  swaggering  exterior  giving  no  evidence  of 
his  timorous  heart  as  he  studied  his  surroundings  with 
a  conscientious  glance  that  was  born  of  his  will,  not 
of  his  desire.  On  a  sudden  a  great  tremor  ran  through 
his  frame  and  his  knees  knocked  loudly  together;  he 
stopped,  perforce,  in  his  walk,  cast  a  longing  look  over 
his  shoulder  at  the  house,  then — eyes  front  again — he 
steadied  himself.  "  William  the  Silent !  "  he  gasped 
faintly. 

For  the  moment  flight  was  imminent  and  Jan's  cause 
would  have  been  lost  at  the  outset,  had  it  not  been  for 
so  trivial  a  thing  as  a  flower  lying,  with  broken  stem, 
across  his  path.  He  stooped  in  anger  and  possessed 
himself  of  it,  shaking  the  dust  gently  from  the  wilted 
leaves.  He  knew  well  enough  what  careless  hand  had 
plucked  the  rose  and  had  dropped  it — one  of  God's  fair- 
est blooms — broken,  and  useless  to  die.  He  forgot  his 
former  apprehension,  under  the  lash  of  this  keener  emo- 
tion, and  walked  boldly  across  the  intervening  space  to 
the  quiet  figure  dreaming  beneath  the  cherry-tree. 

"  Taughter  of  Papylon,"  he  said  sternly. 

Peggy  turned  quickly,  the  smile,  which  had  begun  to 
break  upon  her  face  at  the  sound  of  his  steps,  slipping 
into  a  stare  of  icy  wonderment. 

"  Taughter  of  Papylon." 

"  I  do  not  know  what  you  mean,"  she  cried  angrily, 
"  nor  can  I  imagine  why  you  should  address  me,  and 
certainly  not  by  that  name  and  in  that  voice." 

"  Pecause  it  is  my  tuty,  pecause —    Papa  Tromp ! — 

Egmont ! — so— so —     I " 

208 


Jan  Praa  Speaks  His  Mind 

Jan  glanced  wildly  around  and  wrestled  with  his 
neckband.  "  No,  jonge  juffrouw,  you  must  listen,"  he 
went  on.  "  From  t'at  house  must  you  go,  harm  ant 
trouples  haf  you  prought  t'ere  alreaty,  ant  shame  pe- 
sites " 

"  How  dare  you?" 

"  It  is  t'e  trut'.  So  goot  a  man  as  nefer  vas  ant  hard- 
nekkig  has  he  pecome — no  vomans  is  vort'  it.  T'e 
church  peoples  say,  '  pest  haf  her  go,  for  us  are  not 
Enklish  vays.'  Ant  he  say, '  It  is  my  house.  I  cannot 
pit  her  pegone.' " 

Peggy  was  on  fire  in  an  instant. 

"  Why  was  it  necessary  that  my  stay  here  should  be 
public  talk?  I  did  not  wish  it  known — I  looked  for 
quiet.  What  concern  is  it  of  your  people  when  I  go? 
What  right  have  they  to  talk  about  me  as  if  I  was  some 
charity  patient  rescued  from  the  street  ?  Your  domine 
shall  not  lack  payment,  I  promise  you,  for  every  mo- 
ment I  have  passed  beneath  his  roof  and  for  the  poor 
skill  he  has  made  me  beholden  to." 

She  sprang  to  her  feet  in  a  tempest  of  wrath. 

"  Vait,"  Jan  stuttered,  "  vait  a  leetle,  leetle  moments, 
ton't  you  go  ant  act  hot-headtet,  ton't  you  get  egsitet." 

"  Annetje  might  have  spared  me  this — the  deceitful 
minx!" 

"  Annetje  ?  She  is  glat  as  nefer  vas  to  haf  you  here 
— she  ton't  know  v'at  t'e  ot'ers  say — alvays  apout  t'e 
Enklish  pusy  in  her  mindt  is  she.  Ant  t'e  domine,  he 
ton't  say  not'ings  apout  you,  no  more  as  Annetje  toes, 
put  t'e  neighpors  see  t'e  young  mens  coming  ant  t'ey 
ask  Heilke.  T'at  vomans,  juffrouw,  is  like  a — a — t'at 
t'ing  you  cannot  carry  vater  in  pecause  of  t'e  leetle  holes 

209 


God's  Puppets 


in  t'e  pottom,  ant  she  gapples — gapples —  For  myself, 
I  say  nothings — I  am  tisgretious !  " 

Peggy  tapped  the  ground  angrily  with  her  foot. 

"This  is  too  much — it  is  unendurable!  Where  is 
the  domine  ?  " 

Jan  retreated  a  step  in  horror  then,  under  the  excite- 
ment of  the  moment,  he  moved  forward  and  laid  a  de- 
taining hand  upon  the  girl's  arm. 

"  T'e  great — t'e  great  Peggar ! — Horn ! — Egmont ! 
— oh  listen !  Ton't  you  efer  a  vort  to  t'e  domine  speak, 
put  joost  go.  He  say  his  roof  it  is  sacret ;  to  a  guest 
he  can  not  teny  it.  Ton't  you  unterstant?  T'e  elters 
ant  teacons  make  it  a  question  of  his  right-toing — t'ey 
temant  it  of  him.  Ant  he  answer  t'at  you  go  of  your 
own  vill,  not  pefore,  t'ey  must  vait  for  t'at.  Veil  t'en, 
t'ey  vait — tays,  ant  tays,  ant  tays — it  is  now  most  two 
veeks  t'at  t'ey  are  here,  ant  alvays  he  tisregart  t'eir 
varnings  ant  t'eir  plack  looks.  Sacrament! "  Jan  fin- 
ished with  a  snarl,  "  ton't  you  see  v'at  harm  you  vork 
him  in  t'eir  mindts?  " 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  the  domine  is  suffering 
for  my  sake,"  Peggy  asked  sharply,  "  that  he  is  being 
persecuted " 

"  P — per — per — secutet,  yes,  only  Kott  forgif  me ! 
he  teserfes  it  in  a  measure.  Veil  t'en,  ve  say  not'ings 
apout  t'at — not'ings !  T'e  domine  lofes  his  peoples  so 
tenter  like  a  fat'er,  ant  it  hurts  him  not  to  to  as  t'ey 
say,  put  he  t'inks  no  ot'ervise  can  he  act.  T'e  ent  is 
not  yet ;  v'en  grumplings  rise  in  a  church  t'en  must  t'e 
minister  pevare  for  himself.  Ant  he  has  peen  t'ere 
sefen-ant-t'irty  years — ach!  it  vill  preak  his  heart,  Kott 
knows,  it  vill  preak  his  heart." 

210 


Jan  Praa  Speaks  His  Mind 

The  slow  tears  gathered  in  Jan's  eyes  and,  brimming 
over,  ran  down  his  furrowed  cheeks ;  he  turned  his  head 
aside  to  hide  his  grief.  There  was  a  certain  amount 
of  dignity  in  the  action.  Peggy  stared  at  him  incred- 
ulously, different  emotions  filling  her  breast ;  suddenly 
she  put  out  an  impulsive  hand  and  plucked  his  sleeve 
very  gently,  with  a  touch  that  was  like  a  caress. 

"  You  don't  mean  that  they  would  turn  him  away  ?  " 
she  demanded  in  an  awestruck  whisper. 

"  I  ton't  know.  T'ey  vait  now,  only  t'ere  is  mur- 
murings  ant  tiscontent  eferyv'eres,  t'ey  say  he  is  hard- 
nekkig — like  in  your  speech  stiff  in  t'e  neck — not  eassily 
to  pe  turnedt." 

"  They  would  not  dare  to  send  him  away  on  my  ac- 
count. I  will  not  have  it.  I  will  go  to  them  and  tell 
them  how  good  he  has  been  to  me — I  am  sorry  if  I've 
worked  him  any  harm — I  will  explain " 

"  Nefer,  juffertje,  nefer.  Put  if  you  vouldt  some- 
t'ings  for  him  to,  joost  so  softly  like  t'e  shatow  from 
t'e  grass  go  avay,  ant  let  t'e  sun  shine  clear  once  more." 

Peggy  threw  back  her  head  with  a  laugh. 

"  'Tis  the  first  time  ever  I  was  called  so  black  and 
ugly  a  thing ;  my  going  has  hitherto  brought  the  shad- 
ows, or  men  have  lied.  But  vex  yourself  no  further, 
if  light  and  happiness  will  come  here  by  my  leaving 
then  I'll  go  quickly,  I'd  have  gone  long  ago  had  I 
known ;  no  one  shall  ever  suffer  on  my  account,"  she 
paused,  meditating  upon  her  flight.  "You  will  help 
me  ?  "  she  asked  after  a  moment. 

"  So  goot  as  in  my  power  lies,  put — put — "  his  face 
became  troubled  again,  he  hated  to  ask  favors  of  so 
generous  a  foe,  "  t'e  domine,  if  he  s'ouldt  know —  It 

211 


God's  Puppets 


is  for  his  sake  I  speak,  put  his  home  is  also  my  home, 
to  me  is  it  sacret  likevise." 

She  put  her  hand  again  upon  his  arm,  laughing  into 
his  perplexed  eyes. 

"  I  shall  say  nothing,  you  may  trust  me.  He  will 
think  my  going  so  hastily  at  the  last  is  prompted  by  a 
girl's  whim.  A  woman  has  many  a  wayward  mood 
that  there's  no  accounting  for." 

"  Vonterful !  vonterful !  out  of  t'e  mouths  of  papes 
ant  sucklings  comet'  vistom.  Tis  efen  as  you  say — 
unstaple,  like  vater,  is  t'e  mindt  of  vomans,  now  one 
t'ing,  now  anot'er — no  tepentance  can  pe  placedt  upon 
her.  All  t'e  trouples,  ant  follies  of  t'e  vorldt  are  to  pe 
lait  at  her  toor." 

"  Jan — Jan — were  you  ever  crossed  in  love?  " 

"  No  vomans  haf  I  lofedt  efer,  t'ank  Kott !  For  me 
has  my  neighpor's  misery  peen  enough,  put  I  haf  eyes 
— I  haf  eyes.  Not  one  of  t'em  is  to  be  trustet " 

"  How  can  you  think,  then,  that  I  will  be  true  to  my 
word?" 

"  I  ton't  t'ink— I  know." 

Peggy  clapped  her  hands  delightedly. 

"  Bravo,  that's  as  pretty  a  compliment  as  ever  came 
my  way,  and  I  thank  you — you'll  have  no  cause  to  rue 
it." 

"  T'ere  vill — t'ere  vill  pe,  perhaps,  no  vort  to  An- 
netje?" 

"  Not  one  that  could  pain  you  at  any  time.  Now 
will  you  carry  a  note  to  my  brother,  so  he  may  come 
and  fetch  me  away  after  sundown?  I  must  go  to 
Greenwich." 


212 


Jan  Praa  Speaks  His  Mind 

Late  that  night  Jan  sat  upon  the  kitchen  door-step, 
his  complacent  face  turned  ruminatingly  toward  the 
stars ;  they  were  like  so  many  kindly  eyes  beaming  ap- 
probation upon  him. 

"  Praise  be  to  God,  the  hussy's  gone,"  Heilke's 
strident  voice  cut  across  his  reflections,  "  gone,  and 
good  riddance  to  her!  But  who'd  a-thought  the  end 
would  come  so  sudden?  Well — well — the  ways  of 
Providence  are  past  our  poor  human  finding  out." 

Jan's  breast  swelled  triumphantly  and,  under  cover 
of  the  dark,  he  allowed  himself  the  gratification  of  a  sly 
wink  at  a  certain  star  which  flashed  a  significant  sparkle 
back  at  him ;  but  he  remained  silent,  not  trusting  him- 
self to  speak  in  this  moment  of  elation.  The  quietness 
of  his  attitude  angered  his  companion. 

"  I'll  be  bound  you  were  caught  by  her  pretty  face," 
she  went  on  wrathfully.  "  I  saw  how  she  bewitched 
you,  and  you  as  soft  as  butter  in  August  when  she  came 
to  go  away." 

He  sat  still,  outwardly  unmoved,  though  anger  was 
beginning  to  stir  within  him. 

"  There,  get  away  with  you,  do — 'tis  time  you  went 
to  your  bed.  Merciful  Powers,  it  would  try  the  pa- 
tience of  Job  to  see  you  sprawling  there,  as  if  you'd 
earned  the  right  to  dawdle  that  way.  You  don't  catch 
me  ever  lolling  like  that,  and  I  do  the  work  of  twenty 
like  you " 

"  Woman,  it's  false !  Know  that  I've  done  the  great- 
est work  of  my  life  this  day,  and  it's  been  set  to  my 
account  in  the  courts  above.  I  have  made  this  house 
fair  and  sweet  again " 

"  This  house !  Not  a  hand  have  you  laid  to  it,  Jan 
213 


God's  Puppets 


Praa,  not  a  finger.  Oh !  the  conceit  of  your  kind.  A 
little  brandishing  of  a  broom  in  a  church,  a  little  polish- 
ing, and  dusting,  where  dust  never  comes.  Don't  talk 
of  making  fair  to  me !  A  child  would  turn  your  task 
into  play,  and  yet  you  call  it  work." 

"  'Twas  I  that  did  what  elders  and  deacons  could  not 
do,  'twas  I  that  brought  home  to  the  English  girl  her 
duty,  'twas  I  that  bade  her  go  and  be  no  further  an- 
noyance to  this  house — to  the  domine — to  the  church. 
Can  you  say  now  I've  done  no  work  ?  " 

Heilke  stared  at  him  through  the  dusk. 

"You — didn't?"  she  breathed,  then  she  wrestled 
with  her  admiration  and  surprise. 

There  was  an  interval  of  quiet  during  which  Jan 
thrilled  with  a  deep  sense  of  pleasure ;  her  silence  was 
the  highest  tribute  that  could  be  paid  him.  The  sound 
of  her  voice  aroused  him  from  his  content. 

"  When  the  ass  spoke  to  Balaam,"  she  said  slowly, 
"  'twas  to  be  wondered  at,  past  a  doubt,  yet  no  instru- 
ment is  ever  too  humble  for  Providence  to  use  and  hav- 
ing done  it  once  He  could  do  it  again,  to  be  sure.  Let 
thanks  be  given  where  thanks  are  due,  Jan  Praa." 


214 


XIX 

THE  FULFILLING  OF  A  TRUST 

Heilke's  relief  at  the  visitor's  departure  found  a  nat- 
ural vent  in  increased  nagging,  not  only  of  Jan  who, 
lest  his  complacency  should  unduly  inflate  him,  was 
kept  in  a  state  of  continual  abasement,  but  of  Annetje 
who  came  in  for  her  share  of  the  old  woman's  displeas- 
ure. A  hundred  times  a  day  was  the  girl  convicted  of 
aping  the  airs  of  the  good-for-nothing  young  gentle- 
woman and  charges  of  temper  and  utterly  demoralizing, 
soul-destroying  idleness  were  laid  at  her  door.  If  Jan, 
with  a  sudden  realization  of  the  loneliness  which  en- 
compassed Annetje,  could  make  allowances  for  her  lack 
of  spirits  it  was  more  than  Heilke  could  do. 

"  So,"  she  cried  one  afternoon  when  Annetje,  driven 
at  last  to  desperation,  fled  to  the  garden  with  Joris  lop- 
ing at  her  side.  "  So !  no  sooner  are  we  rid  of  one  fine 
lady  than  another  settles  down  among  us.  God  help 
us !  folded  hands  and  the  sun  hours  from  setting.  I 
tell  you,  Jan  Praa,  Domine  Ryerssen  has  more  to  an- 
swer for  than  he  knows.  You  can't  touch  pitch  and 
keep  your  fingers  clean ;  and  no  more  can  you  consort 
with  idleness  and  keep  a  mind  for  work.  Human  nat- 
ure is  dreadful  quick  at  imitating ;  the  most  of  us  play 
follow  my  leader  from  the  cradle  to  the  grave.  Look 
at  Annetje  now,  she's  doing  nothing — nothing — and  me 
with  the  work  of  the  whole  house  on  my  shoulders.  It's 

215 


God's  Puppets 


all  that  brown-eyed,  laughing  hussy's  fault.  She  never 
knew  the  worth  of  a  moment,  I'll  be  bound,  nor  that — 
try  as  hard  as  you  will — you  can't  set  back  Time's  clock 
and  pick  up  a  lost  chance.  Just  laziness  day  in,  and 
day  out — sheer  wanton  laziness — and  the  devil  ramp- 
ing up  and  down  the  earth  seeking  food  for  his  net.  He 
don't  so  much  tempt  the  idle  after  all,  as  the  idle  tempt 
him ;  the  sight  of  dawdlers  is  enough  to  make  his  fingers 
itch  to  set  them  at  some  mischief — and  small  blame  to 
him ! " 

Jan  ventured  a  pacific  remark  which  was  swept  aside 
with  the  force  of  a  mountain  torrent  after  a  storm. 

"  Annet je  will  be  all  right  again,  eh  ?  It's  natural 
to  miss  a  guest?  Foei!  I  said  you  were  bewitched  by 
her  big  eyes.  Think  shame  to  yourself,  Jan  Praa,  and 
at  your  age,  too,  your  mind  should  be  set  on  other 
things.  There's  no  excusing  Annetje's  idleness — and 
that's  not  all.  What's  come  to  Adrian  de  Hooge,  I'd 
like  to  know  ?  " 

"  But  woman,  he's  in  health,  he  was  at  church  Sun- 
day." 

"  Ay,  and  the  Sunday  before  and  in  health  truly,  as 
you  say — oh!  blinder  than  the  mole.  Before  he  went 
to  Virginia  he  was  all  for  Annetje,  he'd  lover  written 
on  him  from  top  to  toe.  But  since  he's  come  back  has 
he  been  here  once  ?  Has  he  waited  to  speak  to  her  af- 
ter church  ?  Has  he  cast  glances  at  her  even  ?  Though 
she  wouldn't  have  seen  them,  so  full  of  dreams  is  she 
about  those  children  of  the  Evil  One,  but  I  was  watch- 
ing " 

"  Your  eyes  should  have  been  on  the  domine." 

"  And  so  they  were,  but  a  woman  can  look  at  one 
216 


The  Fulfilling  of  a  Trust 

object  and  see  a  dozen  others  at  the  same  time — It's  the 
way  the  Almighty  made  us!  I  marked  the  domine's 
face  and  lost  no  word  of  his  sermon,  and  I  saw  besides 
that  there  was  a  slit  in  the  sleeve  of  his  gown,  no  wider 
than  this  nail,  but  still  a  slit — I  saw  there  was  dust  in 
the  corner  of  the  pulpit-stair  and,  moreover,  that  be- 
neath our  tablet  were  some  dried  leaves — you  must  do 
your  duty  better,  Jan  Praa,  before  you  preach  mine  to 
me — I  saw,  too,  that  Mynheer  Bickers's  coat  needed 
brushing,  and  that  Mynheer  Kay's  linen  was  hungry, 
and  especially  did  I  note  the  change  that  has  come  to 
Adrian  de  Hooge.  Once  he  looked  at  Annetje  with 
anger,  not  love,  in  his  eyes,  'twas  the  merest  glance 
here,  and  gone  again  in  a  twinkling,  but  I  caught  it — 
I  caught  it.  And  after  service,  when  he  could  have 
stopped  for  a  word  as  of  old,  he  was  all  smirks  and 
bows  for  Bertha  Van  der  Grist  and  her  mother  wad- 
dling on  behind  the  two,  with  the  strut  of  a  duck  whose 
offspring  has  taken  to  the  water  for  the  first  time.  Oh ! 
you  can't  deceive  me." 

Jan  gazed  before  him,  speechless  for  the  moment  in 
the  face  of  this  complication  which  he  had  not  fore- 
seen. 

"  And  all  because  the  domine  would  harbor  the 
stranger  within  his  gates,"  Heilke  wailed  despairingly. 
"  I  don't  quarrel  with  the  decrees  of  Providence — I 
know  my  own  sinful  state  better — and  if  it  seems  right 
to  Him  that  the  sins  of  the  fathers  shall  be  visited  upon 
the  children  He  knoweth  best,  that's  all !  But  it  is  cruel 
hard  and  bitter  that  so  fine  a  match  should  come  to 
naught,  just  because  the  domine  chose  to  be  pig-headed. 
There's  no  one  yet  has  brought  that  home  to  him  and 

217 


God's  Puppets 


he'd  never  see  it  for  himself  even  if  it  was  written  in 
letters  of  fire." 

She  hesitated  momentarily  then,  as  if  her  mission 
were  as  clearly  indicated  to  her  as  she  would  have  had 
the  domine's  wrong-doing  evidenced  to  him,  she  sought 
him  in  his  study.  She  returned  thence,  after  a  short 
stay,  so  triumphant  in  her  bearing  that  Jan,  glancing 
askance  at  her  from  the  door-step,  grudgingly  acknowl- 
edged her  superiority  to  himself  with  a  swift  groan. 
She  had  neither  word,  nor  look,  for  him,  however,  but 
swept  out  into  the  open  and  summoned  Annetje  in  a 
loud,  strident  voice. 

The  girl  came  in  answer  to  the  call  obediently  enough, 
and  listened  almost  sullenly  to  the  message  which 
Heilke,  scorning  its  pristine  simplicity,  chose  to  em- 
bellish with  comments  and  chidings  of  her  own ;  but  at 
the  first  pause  for  breath  on  the  woman's  part  Annetje 
betook  herself  to  her  father's  room.  She  had  no  lik- 
ing for  the  place  and  seldom  frequented  it,  save  on  oc- 
casions like  the  present  one  when  duty,  not  love,  drove 
her  thither.  She  had  but  a  single  pleasant  remem- 
brance to  set  against  the  memory  of  numerous,  depress- 
ing visits  there,  and  over  that  one  she  often  lingered. 
In  answer  to  the  summons  from  within  she  opened  the 
door  and  passed  up  to  the  table  with  something  of  the 
bearing  of  a  little  child  in  her  mien,  half  frightened, 
half  defiant.  Heilke's  words  had  left  her  in  a  state  of 
angry  wonderment. 

The  domine  pushed  aside  some  papers  and  turned  his 
face  toward  her ;  she  did  not  notice  its  increased  pallor 
and  weariness,  nor  did  she  appreciate  the  depth  of  love 
in  his  glance  of  welcome.  She  regarded  him  with  in- 

218 


The  Fulfilling  of  a  Trust 

different  eyes,  while  his,  sharpened  by  a  truer  affection 
than  hers,  noted  with  distress  the  trace  of  sadness  in 
her  looks.  He  put  his  hand  out  timidly — it  was  his 
nearest  overture  to  a  caress — but  she  made  no  motion 
to  take  it ;  did  not  perceive  it  in  fact. 

"  You  miss  your  companion  ?  " 

Annetje  held  her  peace  mutinously.  If  she  spoke  the 
truth,  or  a  quarter  of  the  truth,  what  would  follow  but 
reproof  and  sermonizing?  She  was  tired  of  being 
scolded,  why  should  she  be  subjected  to  it  further? 
She  had  lately  learned  of  the  disapproval  of  her  father's 
congregation  and,  resenting  it,  she  included  him  in  her 
resentment  also,  as  if  in  some  way  he  were  culpable 
because  his  position,  instead  of  being  powerful  enough 
to  exempt  him  from  reproach,  had  but  laid  him  open 
to  a  keener  censure.  Heilke  took  every  means  to  keep 
her  aware  of  the  scandal  which  had  arisen  since  Peggy's 
coming  and  remembering  that,  next  to  the  desire  for 
aid,  Bellenden's  demand  had  been  for  secrecy  the 
knowledge  filled  the  girl  with  dismay.  She  blamed 
her  father  in  unreasoning  anger  because  the  sanctity 
of  his  roof  had  afforded  food  for  the  market-place. 

"  It  is  natural,  of  course,  that  you  should  miss  your 
— your  companion.  The  house  must  be  lonely  without 
her." 

"Very  lonely,"  she  admitted  tacitly,  wondering  at 
him.  She  did  miss  the  English  girl,  not  only  on  ac- 
count of  her  merry  ways  but  because,  while  she  had 
been  present,  Annetje  had  felt  that  her  ministrations 
were  laid  upon  another  altar,  one  higher  and  more 
beautiful  than  would  ever  be  erected  in  her  heart  to 
PeggyCrewe.  She  had  seen  little  of  Bellenden  during 

219 


God's  Puppets 


his  cousin's  stay  at  the  parsonage ;  yet  knowing  that  she 
was  serving  him,  in  serving  her,  and  thus  earning  a 
place  in  his  thoughts  she  was  well  satisfied.  Now  that 
she  was  alone  again  she  found  herself  listening  con- 
tinually for  the  signal  that  never  came.  Her  face  had 
sharpened  a  trifle,  her  eyes  were  saddened,  but  she  was 
willing  to  wait,  telling  herself,  with  unshaken  trust, 
that  he  would  come  one  day. 

"  Gray  with  shadows,  gray  with  shadows,"  her  father 
went  on  in  a  low  tone  as  if  to  himself,  "  and  youth  loves 
the  brightness,  loves  its  kind."  He  looked  toward  the 
girl  with  a  wavering  smile.  "  I  had  forgotten  how 
lonely  the  house  must  seem  to  you,"  his  voice  dropped 
wistfully. 

"  I  was  used  to  its  quiet/'  she  answered  a  little  de- 
fiantly ;  "  it  never  has  been  different.  If  my  mother 
had  lived  the  sunshine  would  always  have  been  here,  I 
know."  She  stopped  abruptly,  going  on  after  an  almost 
imperceptible  pause,  "  Heilke  blames  me  for  moping, 
but  she  can't  understand,  and  it  would  have  been  so 
easy  for  my  mother,  that's  all.  When  Miss  Crewe  was 
here  it  was  as  if  a  window  had  been  opened  and  the  sun 
came  in  and  little  sweet,  cool  breezes  and  the  songs  of 
birds.  Now,"  she  spread  her  hands  out  before  her, 
"  the  window  is  closed  and  barred,  there  is  no  sunshine 
anywhere  and  no  singing." 

He  watched  her  through  his  half-closed  eyes;  the 
tremor  in  her  voice  hurt  him  like  the  pricking  of  a 
knife. 

"  My  little  child,"  he  murmured  slowly,  then  again 
and  lower,  "  my  little  child." 

A  short  silence  settled  down  between  them;  in  the 

220 


The  Fulfilling  of  a  Trust 

interval  of  quiet  comprehension  hovered,  with  soft, 
dove-like  wings,  over  their  hearts.  It  was  a  lovely  mo- 
ment for  them  both,  during  which  they  knew  a  near- 
ness of  spirit  never  before  experienced.  The  domine 
was  the  first  to  speak,  as  if  some  power  outside  of  him- 
self compelled  him  to  break  the  charm  which  lapped 
him  in  a  content  he  knew  he  did  not  merit. 

"  Your  mother,"  he  said  hoarsely,  "  your  mother — " 
He  tried  to  speak  further,  but  a  kind  of  paralysis  held 
his  throat. 

He  turned  his  face  away,  clutching  at  the  table's  edge 
with  tremulous  fingers.  He  had  determined,  when 
there  should  be  mention  of  the  mother  between  them, 
that  he  would  tell  her  story  as  he  knew  it  from  begin- 
ning to  end.  He  had  faltered  over  this  purpose,  de- 
ferring it  at  one  time,  revolting  from  it  at  another,  and 
yet  it  had  grown  into  a  definite,  powerful  shape  within 
him,  something  that  must  be  communicated  no  matter 
at  what  grief  to  him  and  to  his  child.  The  struggle 
between  right  and  wrong,  truth  and  falsehood,  had 
warred  incessantly  within  him  ever  since  he  had 
wrapped  his  wife's  shame  in  the  trappings  of  a  lie ;  and 
there  had  hitherto  been  nothing  but  that  futile  juggling 
with  resolution,  that  putting  off  to  a  vague  to-morrow 
for  the  ultimate  triumph  of  his  soul,  while  each  day  saw 
what  he  felt  was  its  deeper  degradation  instead. 

The  moment  that  had  also  held  a  great  peace  for 
Annetje  passed  for  her  likewise,  and  she  was  back  again 
in  the  mists,  but  a  little  trail  of  its  light  still  lingered  to 
govern  her  actions.  She  thought  she  understood  the 
reason  of  his  evident  suffering.  Shyly,  and  yet  with 
a  compassion  that  softened  her  face  into  exquisite  ten- 

221 


God's  Puppets 


derness,  she  put  her  rosy,  little  fingers  on  the  shaking, 
bloodless  hand  that  was  old,  and  withered,  and  as  cold 
as  ice  to  the  touch ;  they  clung  to  its  irresponsiveness 
almost  fondly. 

"  Father,  father." 

It  was  her  heart  calling  to  him,  he  told  himself  dully. 
He  was  all  she  had  in  the  world — he  and  the  beautiful 
memory  of  her  mother.  He  could  not  darken  it — 
would  not !  His  face  set  grimly.  He  could  not,  with 
his  own  hand,  destroy  forever  that  thing  more  beauti- 
ful than  earth's  greatest  beauty — the  faith  of  a  child  in 
its  parent.  Let  him  alone  answer  for  his  sin — he  could 
not  have  her  suffer — he  could  not  set  night  in  the  place 
of  glowing  day,  could  not  give  her  great  shadows  to 
cloud  her  sun  of  love,  when  the  brightness  and  the 
warmth  were  dear  to  her.  Lie,  or  no  lie,  she  must  be 
kept  in  the  ignorance  that  so  far  had  wrought  only  for 
her  peace.  He  loved  her  too  deeply  to  sacrifice  that 
even  in  the  interests  of  truth,  even  as  an  expiation  for 
his  own  wrong-doing.  It  was  for  her  good ! 

Suddenly,  with  a  precision  that  smote  and  blinded 
him  like  a  flash  of  lightning,  the  thought  occurred  to 
him  for  the  first  time  that  in  taking  upon  himself  the 
double  burden  of  their  common  grief  he  had  deprived 
her  of  a  means  of  development  for  her  soul.  She  was 
not  strong  enough  to  withstand  the  approach  of  calam- 
ity ;  even  the  regret  she  experienced  at  the  loss  of  a  com- 
panion, known  not  many  days,  made  her  droop  like 
some  frail  flower  before  an  oncoming  tempest.  But  if 
the  ground  beneath  her  feet  should  be  torn  away,  if  the 
support  around  which  she  had  twined  her  young  life 
should  be  withdrawn — what  then  ?  Had  he  this  to  an- 

222 


The  Fulfilling  of  a  Trust 

swer  for  as  well,  not  only  her  incapacity  to  meet  trouble, 
but  her  inability  to  triumph  over  its  attack?  Bearing 
one  another's  burden  is  to  mutual  advantage,  and  a  law 
never  lightly  to  be  disregarded,  so  the  domine  had  al- 
ways taught;  now  he  felt — with  a  bitterness  of  heart 
too  deep  to  be  controverted — that  to  take  upon  one's 
self  a  cross  which  God  has  fitted  to  another's  shoulders 
is  to  do  a  great  wrong  not  only  to  that  other,  but  to  the 
Love  and  foresight  which  placed  it  there. 

The  old  man  stirred  uneasily  and  turned  his  shaking, 
haggard  face  to  the  girl.  Her  eyes  were  like  the  bit 
of  sky  he  could  see  through  the  window,  blue  and  in- 
finitely tender,  the  purity  of  heaven  was  in  their  smile. 
They  were  young  eyes,  too,  and  had  never  looked  upon 
shame.  He  watched  them  half  fascinated,  picturing  to 
himself  how  they  would  droop  and  grow  sorrowful  be- 
fore the  words  he  must  speak.  This  unexpected  inter- 
view, with  the  opportunity  it  offered  by  her  mention  of 
her  mother,  was  one  he  could  not  evade.  In  sending 
for  her,  he  had  meant  to  let  her  know  that  he  appreci- 
ated her  loneliness,  doubly  accentuated  as  it  was  by 
Miss  Crewe's  departure;  he  had  wished  to  give  her 
some  little  word  of  comfort,  and  it  was  left  for  him  to 
fasten  a  heavy  grief  upon  her  instead,  one  that  could 
never  be  removed. 

He  made  an  effort  at  self-control  and  sat  erect  in  his 
chair ;  his  face,  still  sad,  was  stern  with  a  resolve  that 
stiffened  his  whole  bearing  and  made  him  like  a  man 
of  stone.  She  was  sensible  of  the  change,  though  she 
comprehended  it  as  little  as  a  flower  comprehends  the 
cloud  that  shadows  the  sun  and  casts  a  chill  into  the 
very  soul  of  summer.  Her  hand  fell  away  from  his 

223 


God's  Puppets 


arm ;  the  old  barrier  was  established  once  more  between 
them,  so  high  that  her  heart  could  not  find  the  way  to 
his.  He  stared  at  her  moodily  for  some  moments  with- 
out speaking,  then  he  pushed  his  papers  aside  and  be- 
gan to  fumble  in  the  table  drawer.  His  hands  shook 
as  if  he  were  smitten  suddenly  with  palsy ;  they  could 
hardly  hold  the  little  leather  case  which  he  finally 
brought  out  to  view.  Annetje  took  a  step  nearer  in 
childlike  curiosity. 

"  It  is  your  mother's  gift  to  you,"  he  said  slowly  and 
with  much  pain,  "  a  trinket  that  was  her  mother's  be- 
fore her." 

The  girl's  fingers  closed  tremulously,  yet  with  a  cer- 
tain greed  in  their  touch,  over  the  case,  but  she  did  not 
speak. 

"  Your  mother,"  he  went  on  again,  "  your  mother 
— she — "  his  lips  were  so  dry  he  could  hardly  move 
them,  he  made  another  effort,  "  she  did " 

"  No,  no,"  Annetje  protested.  "  Please — it's  not 
necessary  to  tell  me  the  least,  least  thing — don't  I  know 
how  good  she  was  ?  "  Her  voice  trembled  with  its  rapt- 
ure, then  sank  like  oil  upon  the  troubled  waters  of  his 
spirit.  "  And  it  hurts  you.  I  won't  listen  to  anything, 
I  don't  want  to  hear  anything —  My  mother — my 
beautiful  mother." 

He  covered  his  eyes  to  shut  out  the  sight  of  her 
glowing  face ;  the  ecstasy  and  love  it  held  were  almost 
blinding.  There  was  silence  in  the  room  again  while 
he  fought  with  himself — and  lost.  He  could  not  put 
out  the  light  in  the  faithful  young  heart.  Besides,  he 
told  himself  speciously  and  to  excuse  his  paltering,  if 
the  truth  were  known  at  this  late  day  Adrian  de  Hooge 

224 


The  Fulfilling  of  a  Trust 

might  repudiate  Annetje  not  only  on  account  of  her 
mother's  sin,  but  for  her  father's  deception  as  well.  If 
lie  could  be  displeased  by  so  trivial  a  cause  as  the  young 
gentlewoman's  stay,  as  Heilke  declared  was  the  case, 
what  would  he  say  to  those  other,  graver  charges  ?  For 
another  moment  Annetje's  happiness  trembled  in  the 
balance,  then  it  outweighed  the  domine's  scruples  and 
silenced  the  voice  of  his  conscience. 

He  lowered  his  hand  and  stared  at  her.  He  was  not 
a  man  to  be  deeply  stirred  at  any  time  by  the  sight  of 
beauty,  it  was  something  he  did  not  perceive ;  but  sud- 
denly he  became  aware  of  its  presence,  though  like  a 
blind  person,  who  conscious  of  a  rose  that  holds  the 
whole  of  summer  in  its  loveliness  is  yet  unable  to  an- 
alyze its  charm,  he  was  at  a  loss  to  define  the  subtle  at- 
traction. She  had  fastened  the  pearls  about  her  neck, 
where  they  fell  to  her  bodice,  and  as  he  looked  she  raised 
the  chain  and  held  it  close  against  the  dewy  freshness 
of  her  lips ;  her  eyes  were  limpid  wells  of  joy  that  had 
brimmed  over  a  little  of  their  water  upon  her  flushed, 
dimpled  cheeks  and  her  glistening  hair  formed  a  nim- 
bus about  her  April  face.  She  was  thrilling  with  de- 
light in  the  possession  of  the  necklace,  not  only  because 
it  had  once  belonged  to  her  mother,  but  because  of  its 
beauty  as  well.  She  loved  the  beautiful  for  its  own 
sake  with  an  almost  sensuous  adoration. 

"  These  dear,  dear  pearls,"  she  said  childishly. 
"  They  are  so  pure  and  lovely,  they  are  like  angels' 
tears." 

He  looked  at  her  with  a  tinge  of  pity  in  his  glance. 

"  The  angels  don't  weep,"  he  answered  tonelessly, 
"  only  mortals  do  that.  The  voice  of  weeping  does  not 

225 


God's  Puppets 


enter  there,  '  neither  sorrow,  nor  crying,  neither  shall 
there  be  any  more  pain.' "  He  was  silent  a  moment, 
during  which  the  gladness  went  down  in  her  face. 

"  Now  go,"  he  added  not  ungently,  though  he  re- 
sumed his  book  on  the  instant  as  if  her  presence  an- 
noyed him. 

She  moved  away  softly,  but  half-way  to  the  door  his 
voice  arrested  her  steps. 

"  You  may  not  wear  that — that — necklace,  the  best 
ornament  for  a  young  maid  is  a  meek  and  quiet 
spirit." 

She  unclasped  the  pearls  in  a  spirit  of  outward  obedi- 
ence, her  pulses  throbbing  in  quick  revolt  at  his  tyranny. 
She  had  been  trying  to  gather  sufficient  courage  to  offer 
him  some  little  caress,  though  such  was  never  the  cus- 
tom between  them,  but  now  she  told  herself  resentfully 
that  he  was  ungenerous,  first  he  made  her  glad  with 
the  gift,  and  then  he  disregarded  her  happiness  by  bid- 
ding her  keep  it  hidden ;  he  deserved  no  especial  mark 
of  gratitude  since  the  necklace  was  not  of  his  giving, 
but  of  her  mother's.  She  let  the  door  slip  to  behind  her 
without  speaking  and  hurried  away. 

Domine  Ryerssen  sat  quite  still  after  her  departure 
with  his  book  held  close  to  his  short-sighted  eyes,  but 
he  turned  no  page;  the  printed  matter  did  not  exist 
to  him.  He  seemed  to  be  listening  for  the  sound 
of  steps  without,  yet  usually  he  was  hard  of  hearing 
and  the  silence  around  him  remained  unbroken.  Pres- 
ently, as  if  he  could  no  longer  stand  the  strain,  he  stum- 
bled almost  feverishly  to  his  feet  and  crossed  the  room 
hastily  to  the  door ;  he  flung  it  wide  with  an  impatient 
hand  and  craned  far  out  into  the  passage-way,  anxiety 

226 


The  Fufillling  of  a  Trust 

sharpening  his  gaze.     Once  his  lips  framed  the  word 
"  Annetje,"  but  he  did  not  utter  it  aloud. 

After  a  few  minutes  of  this  futile  waiting  he  closed 
the  door  and  went  slowly  back  to  the  table,  though  he 
did  not  sit  again ;  instead,  he  stood  leaning  there  lost  in 
thought.  He  roused  himself  at  last  with  a  start  and 
gazed  about  in  some  bewilderment  like  one  in  the  midst 
of  strange  surroundings,  then  suddenly,  as  the  familiar 
objects  presented  themselves  to  him  with  their  old  dis- 
tinctness, he  fell  upon  his  knees  by  the  chair  and  threw 
his  arms  across  the  seat,  burying  his  face  in  them. 
"  Oh !  my  God — my  God,"  he  cried  in  a  shaking  voice, 
"  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner." 


227 


XX 

MASTER  AND  SERVANT 

Notwithstanding  Jan's  prophecy  the  figurative  sun 
which,  according  to  him,  was  to  shine  so  clearly  after 
Peggy's  withdrawal  from  the  Ryerssen  household  re- 
mained persistently  hidden.  The  people  regarded  their 
pastor  with  the  utmost  disfavor.  They  were  aware 
that  his  guest's  departure  was  due  to  her  own  whim 
and  not  to  any  compliance  on  his  part  to  their  wishes, 
and  the  thought  fed  their  displeasure  until  it  grew  out 
of  all  proportion  to  the  original  cause.  Mists  of  dis- 
trust and  misunderstanding  hung  low  over  the  church ; 
there  was  a  scarcely  veiled  antagonism  everywhere 
which  set  even  the  peace  of  the  sanctuary  ajar. 

Nor  was  this  all.  A  more  serious  matter  had  oc- 
curred about  this  time,  in  consequence  of  which  a  ship, 
bound  for  Holland,  bore  with  it  a  long  chronicle  of  the 
troubles  of  the  Garden  Street  church.  In  stating  their 
grievances  to  the  Classis  at  Amsterdam  the  members 
of  the  Consistory  had  not  omitted  any  details  of  Miss 
Crewe's  stay  at  the  parsonage,  nor  was  the  domine  mis- 
represented in  his  vindication  of  his  own  actions — the 
complainants  were  just,  though  their  ideas  of  justice 
were  narrow.  Still,  to  each  one  of  them,  it  was  evident 
that  his  office  among  them  must  come  to  an  end.  If 
his  neglect  to  follow  their  admonitions  was  deemed 
insufficient  reason  to  warrant  his  recall,  they  were  con- 

228 


Master  and  Servant 

vinced  that  other,  and  graver,  charges  could  be  laid  at 
his  door  which  the  Classis  would  neither  overlook  nor 
condone.  In  short,  keeping  their  personal  disapproba- 
tion as  a  side  issue,  they  accused  him  of  holding  hereti- 
cal opinions.  It  was  apparent  to  them  that  a  marked 
change  had  taken  place  in  his  preaching.  Several 
times  in  his  sermons  he  had  inferred  that  it  was  God's 
eternal  purpose  to  save  all  men ;  he  had  been  heard  to 
say  that  all  men  possess  the  divine  image,  and  he  had 
shown,  not  once  but  with  alarming  frequency,  an  un- 
usual spirit  of  toleration  toward  all  persons  whatever 
their  religious  views  might  be. 

The  members  of  the  conferentie  party,  as  the  con- 
servatives were  called,  smarting  at  the  heresy  of  their 
pastor  and  disdaining  to  treat  with  him,  moved  with 
the  utmost  secrecy  in  the  matter  and  petitioned  the 
Mother  church  to  discipline  the  offender  and  free  them 
of  his  influence.  With  the  departure  of  the  ship  they 
experienced  a  sense  of  relief,  as  if  the  responsibility  of 
his  wrong-doing  had  been  shifted  to  other  shoulders, 
and  prepared  to  possess  their  souls  in  patience  to  await 
the  judgment  from  over  sea. 

The  domine,  utterly  unconscious  of  the  net  that  was 
closing  about  him,  felt  the  trouble  in  an  indefinable  way 
and  ascribed  it  wholly  to  his  unwillingness  to  act  on  the 
suggestions  of  the  Consistory.  He  knew  that  from  his 
people's  stand-point  he  had  failed  them  signally ;  yet  in 
pursuing  his  line  of  conduct  there  had  seemed  no  other 
alternative  open  to  him.  That  his  parishioners  would 
not  recognize  this  was  a  very  bitter  drop  in  his  cup,  but 
even  more  bitter  was  the  thought  that  no  comprehen- 
sion helped  to  make  his  own  position  easier;  for  self- 

229 


God's  Puppets 


justification,  while  it  offers  some  panacea  to  one's 
wounds,  does  not  bring  the  same  healing  that  lies  in 
the  commiseration  of  others.  At  this  moment  he  stood 
remote  from  the  sympathy  of  his  kind,  as  it  had  been 
his  lot  to  stand  in  another  and  darker  period  of  his  life 
and  indeed,  for  that  matter,  through  all  his  days. 

His  interview  with  Annetje  left  him  utterly  broken. 
Never  before  had  he  so  fully  realized  the  power  of  the 
secret,  whose  shackles  had  eaten  into  his  very  soul ;  he 
was  unable  to  free  himself  from  the  dragging  weight. 
It  was  not  that  he  feared  his  congregation,  nor  even 
the  wrath  of  God,  but  just  the  happiness  of  a  girl.  The 
voice  of  his  duty  sounded  clear  to  him  with  the  thun- 
ders of  Sinai,  yet  above  and  beyond  it  rang  that  little 
cry:  "  Father — father!  "  in  which  she  had  called  to  his 
heart.  The  touch  of  her  hand  clinging  to  his  made  it 
impossible  for  him  to  stand  before  men  as  he  was,  not 
as  he  seemed. 

As  the  days  passed  Jan  Praa  realized  that  matters 
were  not  improving  in  the  least ;  though  with  the  faith 
which  he  had  kept  sunny  throughout  a  long  life  he  told 
himself  that  the  dark  hour  would  soon  slip  away.  Even 
the  sight  of  Annetje — dull,  tuneless,  indifferent,  could 
not  dispel  his  confidence ;  nor  could  the  attitude  of  the 
church  people  shake  his  trust.  Their  anger  which  had 
been  slow  to  kindle  would  die  as  slowly,  but  that  it 
would  die  eventually  he  did  not  doubt.  Meanwhile,  far 
from  dying,  a  little  breath — from  no  one  could  tell 
whence — fanned  the  flame  into  keener  life.  In  the  in- 
creased glare  the  picture  of  that  idle  young  gentle- 
woman with  her  laughter  and  her  disgraceful  songs 
was  not  so  distinctly  seen  as  the  figure  of  a  girl  in  a 

230 


Master  and  Servant 

jockey's  attire  seeking  and  finding  admittance  at  the 
domine's  door.  And  it  was  for  such  an  one  that  he 
had  scorned  the  wise  and  tender  admonitions  of  elders 
and  deacons.  It  was  to  protect  such  as  her  that  he  had 
set  the  power  of  the  church  at  naught. 

These  first,  faint  rumors  assailed  Jan  with  great 
fear,  their  very  incongruity  gave  them  a  reality  which, 
to  his  mind,  was  not  suggested  by  fancy  alone — they 
must  be  true,  no  one  could  have  conceived  such  mon- 
strous suspicions  else.  Then  he  laughed  them  to 
scorn ;  they  were  utterly  false  as  every  member  of  the 
domine's  household  could  testify.  His  words,  how- 
ever, carried  small  weight  with  them.  The  informa- 
tion, fed  from  some  secret  source,  throve  daily — hourly. 
Whispers  of  horse-racing,  of  betting,  of  gambling- 
debts,  of  riotous  living,  became  intermingled  with  those 
other  accusations.  The  name  of  the  mysterious  stran- 
ger, hitherto  unknown,  was  bandied  hither  and  thither 
until  Peggy  Crewe  grew  to  be  the  synonym  for  all  that 
was  evil.  The  whole  community  was  like  some  mon- 
strous witches'  cauldron  that  seethed  and  bubbled  with 
its  poison  brew. 

Jan,  beside  himself  with  grief  and  rage,  sought  out 
Heilke  as  if  she,  and  she  alone,  were  responsible  for  the 
accumulation  of  calumny. 

"  You  know  it's  a  lie,"  he  cried. 

"  I  don't,  I  feel  in  my  bones  that  it's  God's  truth ;  it 
has  all  the  air  of  it.  There's  no  gainsaying  that,  or 
calling  it  a  lie  just  because  it  don't  smack  good  to  your 
lips." 

"  You  saw  her  when  she  first  came " 

"  I  did  not.  Where  was  I  ?  Sent  off — me,  at  my 
231 


God's  Puppets 


age! — to  do  a  girl's  errand,  tramping  up  and  down 
William  Street,  stopping  now  at  this  mercer's,  now  at 
that,  for  a  bit  of  ribbon  and  the  shops  so  temptsome, 
even  to  a  woman  of  my  golden  sense,  that  the  minutes 
slipped  away  like  a  knotless  thread.  'Twas  done  for 
Annetje,  and  she  at  home  here  with  a — a — headache, 
forsooth.  What  had  she  to  do  with  such  a  fine  lady's 
thing  as  a  headache?  She  never  knew  the  throb  of 
one  until  that  day  and  since — look  at  her  now,  heavy- 
eyed  and  white-faced,  as  washed  out  in  appearance 
as  a  bit  of  calico  that  won't  keep  its  color  when  water 
touches  it." 

"  But  I  thought " 

"  Don't  put  yourself  into  a  fever  with  thinking.  I 
saw  the  hussy  when  she  first  came,  did  I?  I  did  not 
see  her  until  she  was  safely  tucked  away  in  Annetje's 
bed  with  one  of  the  child's  night-rails  on.  There's  no 
deceiving  me !  I  saw  at  a  glance  that  it  was  Annetje's, 
and  not  a  trace  of  that  Miss  Crewe's  clothes  anywhere 
to  be  seen — it  struck  me  as  strange  even  at  the  time. 
Then  the  next  morning  on  that  very  step  was  a  box  that 
had  been  conveyed  there  somehow  during  the  night, 
and  when  I  went  to  open  it  Annetje  flew  at  me  as  fierce 
as  a  hungry  cat,  and  nothing  would  do  but  the  both  of 
us  had  to  carry  it  up  to  her  room.  That's  the  truth, 
Jan  Praa,  now  dovetail  it  in  with  what  folks  are  say- 
ing and  see  how  it  matches.  Annetje  was  the  only  per- 
son to  be  with  the  minx." 

"  Surely  then  she'll  tell  you  these  stories  are  false — 
the  idle  gossip  of  silly  women " 

"  Oh !  ay,  and  of  sillier  men.  There's  no  doubt  the 
world's  given  over  to  lying.  It's  a  good  catch  phrase 

232 


Master  and  Servant 

and  she  had  it  at  her  tongue's  end  when  I  confronted 
her  with  the  story,  and  she  put  up  her  shoulders  just 
as  that  hussy  used  to  do,  but  for  all  that  she  went  white 
as  the  yarn  she  spun  and  her  hands  shook  over  her 
work.  I'm  not  blind,  heaven  be  praised !  If  the  tales 
are  a  parcel  of  lies,  you  don't  get  the  real  truth  out  of 
Annetje;  she's  as  secret  as  the  grave.  A  woman  ain't 
a  convicted  liar,  I  suppose  some  would  hold,  because 
she  don't  tell  all  she  knows,  but  she  comes  precious  near 
being  one  to  my  way  of  thinking.  Well,  God  be 
thanked,  truth  speaks  with  more  than  just  the  human 
tongue.  If  it's  only  a  question  of  butter  and  eggs  I 
can  tell  by  the  shifting  of  an  eye,  or  the  trembling  of 
a  lip,  when  dealings  are  false  or  not.  Providence  has 
given  to  those  poor  souls,  whose  invention  runs  to  tricks 
of  lying  speech,  some  outward  and  visible  signs  by 
which  men  shall  know  them  for  what  they  are.  An- 
netje can't  impose  on  me,  even  though  she  denies  every- 
thing and  talks  so  grand  about  being  above  listening  to 
gossip." 

Jan  groaned  in  bitterness  of  spirit. 

"  And  the  domine's  child,"  Heilke  went  on.  "  Nat- 
ure's mighty  curious  when  you  come  to  think  of  it. 
Many  a  time  I've  asked  myself  how  he  could  ever  have 
fathered  such  a  little,  soft  thing  and  now  with  these 
double-dealings  of  hers  the  mystery  grows.  I  always 
said  there  was  more  of  the  mother  in  her,  not  that  she 
ever  stooped  to  deceit,  poor  soul!  she  was  like  new 
fallen  snow  for  whiteness.  Well,  you  can't  tell,  a  twist 
will  appear  in  one  generation  and  be  lost  in  the  next, 
and  then  crop  out  again  when  you  least  look  for  it — 't 
ain't  for  us  to  fathom.  Annetje's  like  her  mother,  feat- 

233 


God's  Puppets 


ure  for  feature,  there's  no  denying  that — the  child's  get- 
ting kinder  mazy-eyed,  too,  just  as  that  other  did  before 
she  went.  Somehow,  I  don't  like  it — I  don't  like  it. 
And  moreover,  Jan  Praa,  though  it's  a  terrible  creep- 
some  thing  to  say  I've  smelled  death  in  the  air  of  late 
— it's  sort  of  hovering  about  this  house — oh !  you  can't 
deceive  me ! " 

Jan  fled  precipitately.  He  was  not  so  much  dis- 
turbed by  Heilke's  croakings,  being  in  a  measure  ac- 
customed to  them,  as  he  was  seriously  troubled  by  the 
manner  in  which  she  fell  in  with  the  current  reports 
and  dragged  Annetje  after  her  as  a  silent,  but  indis- 
putable, witness  on  the  side  of  the  plaintiffs.  For  him- 
self he  would  not  believe  any  untruth  in  Annetje, 
though  his  confidence  in  the  young  gentlewoman  was 
weakening  to  a  fall ;  but,  maintaining  his  right  of  ap- 
peal to  a  higher  court,  he  carried  his  perplexities  to  his 
master. 

The  domine  was  visibly  distressed  by  this  fresh  proof 
of  meddling,  as  he  termed  it,  on  the  part  of  his  parish- 
ioners and  deeply  incensed  at  the  grossness  of  their  in- 
vention. It  was  with  scarcely  veiled  impatience  that 
he  listened  to  the  charges  laid  before  him  and  long 
before  Jan  had  reached  the  end  of  his  recital  the  per- 
turbed man  began  to  pace  up  and  down  the  room  snap- 
ping his  fingers  nervously. 

"  I  did  not  see  the  child  until  I  saw  her  in  Annetje's 
room,"  he  interrupted  vehemently.  "  But  even  if  she 
had  come  to  me  disguised,  as  they  say,  needing  shelter 
and  aid  I  should  have  given  both  without  reserve.  I 
would  do  it  this  day.  Will  they  not  understand  that 
what  is  mine  is  my  own,  and  not  subject  to  their  de- 

234 


Master  and  Servant 

crees?  Why  do  they  seek  to  annoy  me?  The  child 
has  gone.  Why  will  they  not  be  satisfied  and  let 
peace  take  up  her  abode  once  more  among  us?  I 
will  not  tolerate  this  backbiting  and  scandalmonger- 
ing." 

"  But  the  shamelessness  of  it,"  Jan  gasped.  "  A  min- 
ister is  not  as  a  common  man,  as  you  know,  domine,  he 
is  set  apart — of  the  elect.  What  he  does  he  must  do 
with  care.  They  knew  better  than  you  about  the  girl 
— it  was  not  right  for  her  to  be  here.  As  soon  as  ever 
my  duty  was  clear  to  me  I  spoke  to  her  myself,  I  bade 
her  begone.  Would  to  God  it  had  been  borne  in  upon 
me  earlier  in  her  stay." 

Domine  Ryerssen  came  to  a  sudden  pause  within  a 
few  feet  of  the  speaker  and  looked  at  him  curiously, 
almost  as  if  he  were  seeing  him  for  the  first  time. 
He  waited  several  moments,  his  gaze  fixed  and  pierc- 
ing. 

"  You  told  her,"  he  said  at  last  very  slowly. 

Jan  threw  back  his  head,  every  muscle  in  his  face 
strained  tense ;  he  did  not  flinch. 

"  I  told  her." 

"  That  my  roof  could  no  longer  shelter  her  ?  I  would 
not  deny  its  hospitality  to  my  dearest  foe,  if  fate  placed 
him  beneath  its  cover.  The  rights  of  a  guest  are  sacred. 
And  you  dared  violate  the  law  of  my  home — my  home 
that  has  been  yours,  let  me  forget  how  many  years,"  he 
stopped  for  an  instant  fighting  with  himself.  "  Traitor 
to  its  customs,"  he  continued,  huskily,  "  traitor ! " 

"  It  was  because — you — you  did  not  know  how  the 
people  were  talking  even  then,  though  this  last  indig- 
nity, this  unwomanly  attire,  was  unguessed.  There 

235 


God's  Puppets 


was  discontent  everywhere  —  everywhere !  I  was 
driven  to  do  it,  and  she  saw  that  herself  when  I  told  her 
—oh !  I'll  give  her  credit  for  that  quickness." 

"  There  is  no  justification,  none.  You  robbed  my 
house  of  its  most  precious  jewel  as  much  as  if  you  had 
broken  in  and  stolen  away  some  tangible  thing.  There 
is  no  excuse  for  you.  Do  you  suppose  that  I  would 
willingly  pain  my  people?  If  I  could  have  satisfied 
their  demands,  I  would  have  done  so  long  ago.  But 
interference  in  this  matter  was  out  of  their  province, 
as  it  was  out  of  yours — it  was  not  even  in  my  own 
hands.  The  spirit  that  dwells  upon  my  hearth  wields 
a  power  before  which  I  must  bow.  Yet  you  dared — " 
his  voice  shook  with  passion,  "  you  dared  to  do  secretly 
what  you  knew  would  hurt  me  most."  He  trembled,  as 
if  he  were  suffering  from  some  physical  injury,  and  in 
his  self-absorption  struck  out  in  his  turn,  not  caring 
how  deep  was  the  wound  he  inflicted.  "  This  is  your 
home  no  longer,  Jan  Praa,  you  have  forfeited  it  forever. 
Go  at  once." 

The  old  man  retreated  a  step  in  dismay,  his  weather- 
beaten  face  growing  a  sickly  white,  his  eyes  staring 
incredulously. 

"  You  can't  mean  it,"  he  gasped  in  a  hoarse  whisper, 
"  you  can't  mean  it." 

"  Every  word." 

"  After  all  these  years?  " 

"  Were  you  faithful  to  the  years  and  their  teach- 
ings?" 

"  It  has  been  my  home  as  long  as  it  has  been  yours," 
Jan's  voice  was  a  wail  of  anguish.  "  It's  honor  is  as 
dear  to  me  as  to  you,  nay,  I  mean  no  disrespect.  I  loved 

236 


Master  and  Servant 

it  too  well  to  see  it  smirched  in  the  eyes  of  the  people. 
You  will  not  turn  me  off  ?  " 

"  You  may  not  stay." 

"  Cast  out — set  adrift — and  Annetje — and  the — the 
— garden — my  garden !  Oh !  God,  it's  too  hard  to  bear. 
Why,  look  you,  you  can't  treat  me  this  way  any  more 
than  you  can  tear  up  that  tree  yonder  and  toss  it  aside. 
It's  old — old — and  its  roots  have  struck  deep,  I  tell  you. 
Tear  it  up  and  it  dies.  I  can't  go ;  my  roots  have  struck 
too  deep." 

"  I  cannot  keep  you  longer  in  my  service." 

Jan  drew  his  sleeve  across  his  eyes. 

"  The  south  beds  were  fair  choked  up  with  weeds 
when  I  came,"  he  murmured  to  himself  after  a  minute, 
as  if  he  were  thinking  aloud  and  had  forgotten  his 
immediate  surroundings.  "  My  fingers  were  itching 
to  get  at  them.  The  domine  never  knew  aught  about 
growing  things,  and  Heilke  only  thinks  of  herbs.  The 
garden  was  fast  going  to  destruction,  but  I  labored 
over  it — I  labored  over  it.  The  flowers — bless  them! 
— got  to  know  me  and  love  me  seemingly,  and  all  the 
tender  young  growths  had  a  trick  of  bowing  down  to 
me  like  the  sheaves  in  Joseph's  dream,  making  obeis- 
ance to  me  their  master,  I  always  thought  of  that  on  a 
breezy  day — always. 

"  Years,  and  years,  and  years,"  he  rambled  on  mus- 
ingly, "  my  garden — all  my  own.  Even  when  she 
came,  even  when  she  left  it  to  the  baby.  Annetje  says 
it's  hers  now —  Well,  well,  let  the  child  think  so — I 
just  keep  watch — keep  watch.  She's  got  the  reins  fast 
enough  in  her  little  hands,  but  she  knows  I'm  back  of 
her  ready  to  take  them  when  she's  tired,  or  things  get 

237 


God's  Puppets 


too  masterful.  It's  my  garden,  I  tell  you."  He  lifted 
his  head  and  stared  into  the  domine's  face,  the  realiza- 
tion of  the  moment  striking  him  sharply. 

"  Why,"  he  continued  bitterly,  "  men  let  old  stumps 
of  trees  bide  even  if  their  day  is  over.  They  don't 
drag  them  out — time  makes  them  sacred.  Say  they 
played  beneath  them  when  they  were  boys — that's  rea- 
son strong  enough  why  they  should  stay.  It's  for  old 
sake's  sake !  And  no  more  do  they  cast  an  old  friend 
off,  no  matter  what  the  offence " 

"  I  cannot  do  otherwise,  God  help  me.  You  may 
not  stay." 

A  sudden  flame  of  passion  leapt  into  Jan  Praa's  face, 
his  eyes  narrowed  until  they  became  a  mere  slit  through 
which  his  glance  glittered  like  a  weapon.  He  moved 
to  the  door  without  a  word,  no  longer  broken  in  aspect, 
and  paused  there  with  his  hand  on  the  knob. 

"  You  can't  take  my  church  office  from  me,  Domine 
Ryerssen,"  he  snarled.  "  You  can't  go  to  the  Con- 
sistory and  say  that  I'm  unfit — unworthy  for  service." 

The  subtle  taunt  in  the  angry  voice  was  not  lost  upon 
the  minister.  He  raised  his  head  inquiringly  and 
looked  back  into  the  other's  eyes,  before  their  fixed, 
contemptuous  stare  his  own  wavered  and  fell ;  his  face 
grew  ashy.  He  put  out  his  shaking  hands  as  if  to  ward 
off  a  blow. 

"  You — you  knew  ?  " 

"  I  knew — all  these  years  I  knew.  Wait,  I'll  tell  you 
how.  The  day  she  went  away  my  cousin  Gysbert  Praa 
sailed  by  the  same  ship.  I  was  at  the  wharf  to  bid  him 
God-speed  and  as  I  tarried,  while  the  sailors  made  ready 
to  cast  off,  a  man  and  woman  hurried  aboard.  They 

238 


Master  and  Servant 

passed  so  close  I  could  have  touched  her,  without 
stretching  out  my  hand  more  than  this,  and  the  end  of 
her  veil  flapped  in  my  face  so  that  I  could  not  help 
but  see  that  it  was  jagged  and  rent,  as  if  it  had  been 
caught  in  some  place  and  wrenched  away.  There  was 
something  familiar  about  her,  though  she  was  heavily 
cloaked  and  hooded,  that  made  my  heart  sink  like  lead 
in  my  breast.  Something  in  the  turn  of  her  head,  the 
little  sideways  walk — I  couldn't  tell  what  it  was — but  I 
went  cold  as  ice  on  the  moment.  I  put  the  thought  by, 
telling  myself  I  was  a  fool  to  be  troubled  by  a  chance 
resemblance  when  she  was  home  here,  safe  with  her 
child " 

The  domine  gripped  the  edge  of  the  table  so  hard  that 
his  knuckles  gleamed  a  luminous  white,  and  the  veins 
on  the  backs  of  his  hands  seemed  strained  almost  to 
bursting. 

"  Go  on,"  he  commanded  hoarsely. 

"  When  I  got  home  Heilke  had  the  child  and  she  said 
that  Juffrouw  Ryerssen  was  gone  to  the  country — she 
cried  out  as  she  finished  speaking  to  know  if  I  had  seen 
a  ghost,  but  I  put  her  off  as  best  I  could  and  went  away 
to  the  garden.  Something,  I  don't  know  what  it  was, 
drove  me  down  to  the  little  gate.  It  was  open  and  there, 
clinging  to  the  upper  hinge,  was  a  wisp  of  black  ma- 
terial— a  bit  of  a  woman's  veil." 

A  deep  groan  seemed  wrung  from  the  listening  man 
as  he  let  go  his  hold  of  the  table  and  covered  his  face 
with  his  hands. 

"  Then  I  remembered,"  Jan  continued  more  gently, 
"  that  often  had  I  found  the  gate  ajar  and  once,  in  the 
lane  without,  I  had  picked  up  a  woman's  glove — her 

239 


God's  Puppets 


glove.  I  knew  she  used  the  gate  and  it  was  borne  in 
upon  me  then,  like  a  flash,  that  she  had  gone  through  it 
for  the  last  time,  that  it  led  to  the  way  of  shame.  After 
that  I  waited — waited — I  couldn't  go  to  you  with  my 
suspicions — soon  I  knew  you  knew,  for  the  heartbreak 
was  written  on  your  face.  Then  came  that  day  when 
you  said  she  was  dead  to  us  all — you  know  the  rest." 

"  You  kept  quiet  all  this  time  for  my  sake  ?  " 

"  For  yours,  for  hers,  for  the  child's,  since  that  was 
your  will." 

"  I  laid  no  command  upon  you." 

"  You  showed  me  your  desire  more  clearly  than  if 
you  had  said,  in  so  many  words,  do  this,  or  that." 

"  I — I  did  that  ?  Then  I  digged  a  pitfall  for  your 
steps,  too,  my  poor  Jan,  I  made  you  take  a  lie  into  your 
life,  I  snared  your  soul  as  with  a  net — woe  is  me !  " 

Jan  shifted  uneasily  from  one  foot  to  the  other. 

"  And  there's  nothing  so  fair  in  all  this  world  as  the 
truth,"  the  domine  went  on  shudderingly.  "  Oh !  my 
God,  how  have  I  sinned  in  Thy  sight  and  caused  this 
other  to  sin.  Lay  not  this  charge  against  him." 

"  No,  no,"  Jan  interposed,  speaking  soothingly  as  if 
to  a  little  child,  "  never  fret.  He  doesn't  look  at  sin 
with  our  eyes,  that's  very  certain!  Maybe  He  makes 
allowances.  He  knows  what  the  woman  was  to  you — 
didn't  He  create  her  ?  And  He  knows,  too,  how  griev- 
ous hard  it  is  to  see  those  you  love  suffer  scorn,  deserv- 
ing or  otherwise,  it  don't  much  matter.  The  world's 
cruel  bitter  to  the  weak  and  helpless " 

"  Hush !  I  must  not  listen  to  you — hush !  The  very 
argument  I  used.  I  made  it  seem  right.  I  wouldn't  see 
that  it  was  of  the  devil — the  father  of  lies."  He  stopped 

240 


Master  and  Servant 

brokenly,  then :  "  Unfit  for  service,  unfit  for  service," 
he  went  on  with  a  bitter  cry,  "  oh !  worse  than  hypocrite 
that  I  have  been." 

Jan  moved  away  from  the  door  and  went  quite  close 
to  the  trembling  man. 

"  When  I  said  that  I  was  smarting  with  rage — I — I 
did  not  mean  it — I  but  struck  with  the  first  weapon  that 
came  to  hand.  Forgive  me." 

"  Am  I  so  blinded  by  my  sin  that  I  cannot  behold 
truth  when  she  sweeps  by  with  her  mighty  wings? 
Unfit — unworthy — Those  are  the  badges  to  fasten  on 
my  coat  after  the  heat  and  the  burden  of  the  battle. 
But  there  shall  be  no  more  dalliance  with  evil  to  lap  me 
in  ease " 

"And  Annetje?" 

"  Annetje —  oh !  God,  what  shall  I  do?  My  one  little 
ewe  lamb,  my  one  little  lamb !  Nay  then,  Annetje  must 
suffer  with  me — it  is  the  only  course " 

"  Listen  to  me,"  Jan  pleaded.  "  Surely  there's  no 
need  to  speak.  I  was  never  one  for  dragging  the  dead 
past  into  the  living  present.  The  Scriptures  say  '  suffi- 
cient unto  the  day  is  the  evil  thereof,'  and  that,  I  take  it, 
means  what  is  gone — the  day  that  has  held  its  wrong 
and  shame — as  well  as  what's  to  come.  This  is  over 
and  done  with  long  ago.  Let  the  past  rest." 

"  I — I  cannot  see  my  duty — I  am  bewildered — like 
one  blind.  Go  now." 

"  Do  you  mean  as  you  meant  before  ?  "  Jan's  voice 
was  the  merest  whisper. 

The  domine  looked  at  him  and  hesitated,  a  sad  per- 
plexity in  his  gaze. 

"  If  I  bid  you  stay,"  he  said  after  some  moments, 
241 


God's  Puppets 


"  does  it  not  mean  that  I  fear  you  ?  Does  it  not  imply 
that  you  are  my  master,  even  though  you  serve  me,  even 
though  I  bind  the  irons  of  secrecy  upon  your  lips  by 
bribing  you  with  your  heart's  desire  ?  I — I  know  not. 
But  if,  ignoring  your  fidelity,  I  bid  you  go,"  his  voice 
trembled,  "  because  out  of  love  for  me  you  have  dis- 
regarded a  principle  of  mine,  am  I  not  still  master — 
master  most  of  all  of  my  weak,  wayward  self  ?  " 

He  stood  gnawing  his  lip  irresolutely,  while  the 
watch  among  the  papers  on  the  table  made  a  noisy  com- 
ment on  the  passing  minutes ;  presently  he  moved  closer 
to  his  companion  and  touched  him  gently. 

"  You  shame  me,  Jan,  every  way  you  shame  me. 
Oh !  more  than  friend,  I  cannot  bid  you  go." 

Jan  took  the  trembling  hand  from  his  arm  and 
clasped  it  between  his  work-worn  palms. 

"  And  my  garden — mine — "  he  cried  brokenly. 


242 


XXI 

THE  WEEKLY  "  POST-BOY  " 

The  long  room  at  the  Province  Arms  was  almost  de- 
void of  company.  It  had  been  well  frequented  during 
the  earlier  evening  by  the  habitues  of  the  place ;  there 
had  been  the  usual  faces  at  the  tables,  the  usual  amount 
of  wine  taken,  gold  lost,  and  jests  passed.  To  the  hum 
of  many  voices  had  succeeded  this  semi-quiet.  The 
candles  were  burning  low  in  branches  and  sconces,  the 
air  was  close  and  stifling,  though  the  windows  were 
flung  wide  to  catch  any  stray  breeze  that  might  be 
abroad,  the  ones  in  the  rear  opening  on  the  broad  piazza 
which  commanded  a  view  of  the  river  and  the  line  of 
the  Jersey  shore  beyond,  lying  dark  against  the  star- 
gemmed  heavens.  Many  of  the  guests  had  idled  the 
moments  away  there  when  the  night  was  younger,  or 
had  descended  into  the  sleeping  garden  which  sloped 
to  the  water's  edge,  strolling  about  in  the  soft  dusk  far 
from  the  excitement  of  the  game  that  sharpened  the 
feverish  faces  of  the  players  into  unlovely  lines. 

But  garden  and  veranda  were  deserted  and  wrapped 
in  silence,  while  in  the  house  itself  a  number  of  weary 
serving-men  lounged  against  the  wall  at  one  side  of 
the  room  yawning  furtively  and  casting  distasteful 
glances,  from  time  to  time,  at  the  group  of  revellers 
still  gathered  about  one  of  the  card-tables. 

"  A  bottle  of  Madeira,  Hobbes,  and  don't  let  the  grass 
243 


God's  Puppets 


grow  under  your  feet  while  you're  getting  it,"  one  of 
the  players  called  peremptorily.  "  Step  lively,  do  you 
hear?  I  say  gentlemen,"  he  continued,  turning  back 
to  his  companions,  "  the  trick's  mine — the  queen  takes." 

"  Ay,  just  your  luck,  Moulton,  the  petticoats  are  al- 
ways for  you." 

"  Not  always,"  interpolated  another  slyly. 

"  'Sdeath !  sir,"  Moulton  cried  with  a  quick  lowering 
of  his  hand  to  his  side,  "  am  I  to  understand " 

"  No  offence  in  the  world,  my  bully  boy.  A  man 
may  be  lucky  at  cards  and — you  know  the  adage.  But 
that  was  not  my  thought."  The  speaker  paused  with  a 
laugh.  "  Lord !  if  we  all  moped  and  wore  the  willow 
because  a  certain  lady  is  deaf  to  our  sighings,  we'd  form 
a  line  that  might  take  the  King's  fancy  for  numbers, 
though  it  doesn't  take  hers. 


'  Be  she  fairer  than  the  day, 
Or  the  flowery  meads  in  May, 
If  she  be  not  so  to  me, 
What  care  I  how  fair  she  be?'  " 


He  broke  off  in  the  song  and  looked  around,  "  There ! 
she's  gone  and  God  speed  to  her,"  he  resumed.  "  I  was 
thinking  of  that  other  jade  hight  Fortune.  Didn't  you 
get  bit  up  Greenwich  way  with  the  rest  of  us  ?  " 

"  Ay,  I  lost  a  pretty  sum,  curse  the  luck !  How  did 
I  know  the  Beauty  would  be  up  to  fresh  tricks  ?  " 

"  You  don't  mean — "  the  words  were  tumbled  out 
with  a  hasty  oath. 

"  I  do,  though,  who  doubts  it  ?  It's  a  pity  we  didn't 
suspicion  it  then  and  there.  I'd  given  ten  times  the  sum 

244 


The  Weekly  " Post-Boy" 

I  lost  to  have  been  able  to  say  to  her — '  Ah !  ha,  madam, 
I  know  you.'  " 

"  But  who  says?" 

"  Man,  who  says — who  says  ?  Who  doesn't  say  ? 
It's  all  about  us ;  you  can't  disentangle  it,  any  more  than 
you  can  disentangle  the  air  we  breathe.  Who  can  tell 
how  a  rumor  grows?  A  whisper  here,  a  whisper 
there,  a  word,  a  glance,  a  sneer — softer  than  snow — 
quicker  than  steel — and  hydra-headed  at  the  last.  What 
does  it  matter  to  us  how  it  came  into  being  when  the 
fact  remains  that  my  fine  lady,  who  prides  herself  upon 
never  having  had  the  reputation  of  an  intrigue,  is  con- 
victed of  as  pretty  a  piece  of  unwomanly  daring  as  ever 
the  sun  shone  on  ?  The  heroine  of  a  nice  bit  of  scan- 
dal !  Oh !  she'll  come  back  to  us  devout  enough,  never 
fear.  She's  been  tarrying  of  late  in  the  household  of  a 
Dutch  minister  getting  back  her  roses,  forsooth " 

"  Not — not — "  the  girl's  name  was  uttered  in  a  sharp 
whisper.  "  Gad,  was  there  ever  such  a  jest  ?  And  we 
thought  her  safe  at  Albany  revenging  our  ills  on  the 
fellows  there." 

"  Norrie  swore  to  me  Sunday  that  she  hadn't  been 
there  at  all — 'twas  just  a  blind! — and  Miss  Stirling 
gone  to  all  the  trouble  to  make  a  rout  for  her.  He  said 
'twas  given  out  that  she  was  staying  at  Crewe  Park  up 
country.  I  began  to  smell  a  rat  the  moment  he  spoke. 
You  know  we  thought  it  deuced  queer  the  way  the 
jockey  was  hustled  off  that  day  and  old  Middleton  at 
hand,  too.  Somebody  had  gone  to  fetch  him  from  the 
seats  and  when  he  came  running  up  with  his — '  Eh  man 
alive !  is  the  lad  hurtit  ?  ' — Sink  me !  if  the  patient  hadn't 
flown." 

245 


God's  Puppets 


"  Yes,  yes,  I  remember.  And  here  in  town,  you  say, 
all  the  while?  I  wonder  did  she  make  a  conquest  of 
the  minister — domine,  don't  ye  call  him?  He  must 
wear  his  heart  on  his  sleeve.  Was  it  he  that  told  ?  " 

"  There  you're  at  it  again !  It's  well  for  the  rest  of 
us  that  we  are  satisfied  with  facts  as  they  come  to  us 
and  not  troubled  with  the  itch  to  trace  the  news  step  by 
step.  You've  seen  the  Post-Boy,  doubtless?  No? 
Well,  I  can  tell  you  this  much — it's  no  secret — there 
came  a  letter  to  the  office  t'other  day  with  the  news  of 
the  Beauty's  daring  writ  therein  in  full,  and  a  pretty 
poem's  the  result." 

"  That  accounts  for  your  preoccupied  air  these  last 
days,  and  your  '  don't-trouble-me-rm-not-in-the-hu- 
mor-for-junketing.' " 

Moulton's  breast  swelled  complacently  as  he  settled 
his  ruffles  aright. 

"  Nay,"  he  laughed  nonchalantly,  "  you  give  me  too 
much  credit.  A  sonnet,  or  a  quatrain  perhaps,  but  an 
epigram  now — egad!  it's  beyond  me.  I'd  be  but  a 
'prentice  hand  at  it." 

"  Still  there  must  be  a  beginning  some  time.  Where's 
the  Post-Boy?  I  say — you — somebody — there,  fetch 
the  Post-Boy.  How  slow  that  cursed  drawer  moves; 
he'd  be  a  good  one  to  bring  in  Death.  Hola,  the  Post- 
Boy,  I  say." 

"  Have  a  care,  Drake,  here  come  Bellenden  and 
Larry." 

"  Who's  Bellenden  that  he's  to  be  feared?  "  growled 
Moulton  under  his  breath.  "Damn  his  high  and  mighty 
airs,  he's  only  a  two-penny  captain  after  all !  And  as 
for  Crewe,  I  wish  somebody  would  take  me  that  young 

246 


The  Weekly  "Post-Boy" 

fool  and  drop  him  in  the  river.  Look  at  his  swagger. 
Is  he  the  only  man  who  ever  had  a  horse  win  ?  Have 
you  heard  him  bleat  '  my  horse — my  horse  ?  '  Lord ! 
you'd  think  'twas  he  that  created  Touchstone.  By 
heavens,  I'll  take  the  conceit  out  of  him  and  out  of  that 
cousin  of  his  before  I'm  an  hour  older." 

The  party  of  men  who  entered  the  room  at  this  junct- 
ure was  composed  of  Bellenden,  two  fellow-officers — 
Whyte  and  Nevil — and  Larry.  The  three  soldiers 
were  in  uniform,  their  coats  thrown  open  because 
of  the  heat  of  the  night,  while  the  slim  young  ex- 
quisite was  foppishly  arrayed  in  a  suit  of  silver  gray 
with  an  elaborately  embroidered  waistcoat — London 
was  written  on  him  from  top  to  toe.  Despite  the  chorus 
of  greetings  showered  upon  them  the  new-comers  could 
not  but  feel  that  they  had  furnished  food  for  the  pre- 
vious conversation ;  the  lull  that  followed  their  entrance 
was  surcharged  with  an  intangible  suspicion. 

Bellenden  looked  keenly  about.  He  had  been  an- 
noyed throughout  the  day  by  a  hundred  little  happen- 
ings, too  insignificant  to  put  one's  finger  upon  and  yet 
more  irritating  than  the  constant  buzzing  of  a  blue- 
bottle against  the  pane  is  to  the  hearing  of  a  man  in 
fever.  In  the  gardens,  whither  he  had  strolled  in  the 
afternoon,  the  hilarity  of  the  different  groups  there  was 
noticeable,  but  a  sudden  cessation  of  the  chatter  fol- 
lowed in  each  instance  his  appearance  within  ear-shot. 
Broken  sentences,  peals  of  laughter,  chance  words,  set 
every  nerve  within  him  ajar  with  the  thought  of  what 
they  really  might  mean. 

"  La,  Jack,"  Mrs.  Crewe  called  as  he  stalked  past, 
raging  at  the  covert  innuendoes,  and  quite  oblivious  to 

247 


God's  Puppets 


the  smiling  presence  of  the  widow  and  her  companion, 
whom  she  was  parading  for  the  benefit  of  her  less  fortu- 
nate friends,  "  la,  Jack,  I'll  have  to  send  for  Peggy.  All 
the  town  is  talking  of  her  and  wondering  why  she  don't 
come  home.  I  protest,  a  person  would  think  there  was 
no  one  in  the  world  but  Peggy." 

She  paused  to  let  the  young  nobleman  at  her  side 
whisper  a  contradiction  to  her  words  and  Bellenden  con- 
tinued his  morose  way  unheeded. 

No  one  in  the  world  but  Peggy!  It  had  been  his 
thought  for  many  weeks — though  he  felt,  rather  than 
knew,  that  this  sudden  public  interest  in  her  was  but 
the  result  of  her  escapade  which  had  leaked  out  in  some 
fashion.  He  chafed  at  the  continued  queries :  "  How 
was  she  ?  "  "  When  was  she  coming  back  ?  "  What 
could  he  say?  He  had  not  seen  her  himself,  save  in 
his  dreams,  waking  and  sleeping,  for  a  full  fortnight. 
Smarting  with  these  thoughts  and  full  of  suspicion  he 
had  betaken  himself  to  the  Province  Arms  with  his 
companions  that  night  to  have  a  try  at  cards,  or  the 
bowl,  and  so  win  forgetfulness  one  way  or  the  other. 

"  Have  a  game,  any  of  you  fellows,"  Drake  called 
glibly,  throwing  himself  into  the  breach,  "  or  shall  we 
say  cuts?  Come,  you're  deuced  flush,  Crewe,  and  can 
afford  to  stand  the  crowd  and  let  us  win  back  some  of 
our  money." 

Larry  put  his  hands  on  his  hips  and  swayed  from  side 
to  side,  humming  lightly. 

"  I'll  keep  what  I  have,  thank  you,  and  thank  my 
horse.  Truth  is,  I've  sworn  off  pro  tern.,  but  I'll  join 
you  in  a  glass  fast  enough.  Cards,  gentlemen,"  he 
added  with  a  pretty  air  of  sententiousness,  "  play  the 

248 


The  Weekly  "Post-Boy" 

devil  with  us.    Best  give  'em  the  cold  shoulder  when 
we  can." 

"  Ay,  cards  and  women,"  Drake  laughed,  "  though 
you've  no  need  to  complain  at  the  fair  hands  of  the  lat- 
ter, Crewe." 

Larry  smiled  fatuously  and  smoothed  his  laces  to  an 
imagined  advantage. 

"  Tis  not  for  me  to  say,"  he  ventured  with  assumed 
simplicity. 

Bellenden,  looking  on,  was  possessed  with  a  sudden 
desire  to  shake  the  boy.  He  was  angry  at  him  and  doub- 
ly angry  at  the  laughter  of  the  others.  That  there  was 
more  in  Drake's  remark  than  appeared  on  the  surface 
he  was  very  sure ;  he  had  not  lost  the  quick  glance  which 
had  passed  between  him  and  Moulton.  He  knew  Drake 
for  a  mischief-maker,  a  dare-devil,  who  could  never  let 
well  enough  alone;  Moulton,  dark-browed,  sinister- 
eyed,  lacked  the  other's  frankness,  though  immeasur- 
ably his  superior  in  cleverness.  There  had  never  been 
more  than  the  shallowest  pretence  at  friendship  between 
Bellenden  and  Moulton ;  belonging  to  the  same  set,  they 
met  almost  daily  in  the  diversions  of  fashionable  life, 
yet  each  man,  from  the  start,  had  had  an  instinctive  dis- 
like for  the  other. 

"  Well,  there's  no  occasion  to  shun  wine,  thank  God," 
Nevil  ejaculated  piously.  "  You're  with  me  there, 
Jack?" 

"  That  I  am,"  Bellenden  returned,  throwing  aside  his 
heavy  mood.  "  Care  vanishes  with  the  first  gulp — here 
goes!  I'm  one  also  with  that  old  fellow  who  has  set 
down  for  our  creed  five  good  reasons  for  drinking " 

"  Out  with  'em,  Captain.  What  are  they  ?  Tell  us 
who  fathered  'em." 

249 


God's  Puppets 


"  Sink  me,  but  I  forget  how  he  is  called.  What 
tricks  a  man's  memory  plays  him  sometimes!  Well, 
'tis  small  matter.  A  dean  of  Oxford,  gentlemen,  his 
verses  are  more  rememberable  than  his  name.  Come, 
count  me  off  the  reasons : 

'  Good  wine,  a  friend,  or  being  dry, 
Or  lest  you  should  be  by  and  by, 
Or  any  other  reason  why.'  " 

"  And  if  Oxford  were  situate  in  York  Colony  the  old 
duffer,  like  one  of  his  cloth  here,  might  have  added  a 
sixth  argument  to  his  five — Beauty  in  boots !  Gentle- 
men, I  give  it  now."  Moulton  stood  up  as  he  spoke, 
his  glass  lifted  high. 

Bellenden  and  Larry  started  in  surprise,  though  each 
man  had  himself  in  check  almost  immediately,  and  not 
so  much  as  a  look  passed  between  them  to  show  that 
they  had  noticed  the  covert  allusion  to  Domine  Ry- 
erssen. 

"  'Slife !  but  that's  good,"  Drake  cried  as  he  drained 
off  the  bumper.  "  Only  you've  forgot  to  say  whose 
boots." 

"  A  most  grievous  omission,  Mr.  Moulton,"  Bellen- 
den put  in  coldly,  shifting  his  untasted  glass  and  watch- 
ing the  liquor  it  contained  with  a  curious  glance. 
"  Your  friend  is  right —  Whose  boots  ?  Your  words 
need  simplifying — to  my  understanding  at  least." 

"  The  Post-Boy  might  offer  sufficient  enlightenment, 
that  is,  if  you  have  any  acquaintance  with  the  muses." 

"  No  personal  acquaintance,  I  regret  to  say.  It  has 
not  been  my  custom,  or  my  privilege  as  you  might  term 
it,  to  lisp  in  numbers,  still  I've  a  tolerable  familiarity 

250 


The  Weekly  "Post-Boy" 

with  the  endeavors  of  other  men.  We've  some  poets 
of  our  own  at  home,  as  doubtless  you  have  heard.  I 
didn't  know  you  bred  'em  here." 

"  A  few,"  Motilton  raged.  "  I  fancy  we'll  be  able  to 
boast  as  good  singing-birds  in  the  future  as  any  of 
yours." 

'  Tis  a  question  to  be  left  for  time  and  '  pert  pos- 
terity '  to  decide.  Meanwhile  I  wait  with  impatience 
the  commentary  of  your  gazette." 

Moulton  picked  up  the  paper,  which  a  servant  had 
previously  placed  upon  the  table  at  his  elbow,  and 
smoothed  out  the  sheet  several  times  with  the  back  of 
his  hand.  He  turned  it,  in  the  same  precise,  irritating 
fashion,  running  down  the  page  with  his  eye  until  he 
came  to  that  which  he  sought.  Then  he  cast  a  swift 
glance  around  at  the  hushed,  expectant  group,  threw 
back  his  shoulders  with  an  air  of  bravado  and,  after 
clearing  his  throat  noisily,  began  to  read. 

In  the  silence  that  followed  the  closing  words  Larry, 
his  face  drawn  with  rage,  his  hand  gripping  his  sword- 
hilt,  moved  a  step  nearer  his  cousin.  Bellenden  stood 
apparently  unmoved,  though  in  the  blur  before  his  eyes 
he  saw  all  things  red,  and  his  mind  was  a  whirl  of  con- 
fused impressions  out  of  which  whole  lines  of  the  scur- 
rilous lampoon  rose  and  smote  him  again  and  again. 
The  pause  was  not  of  a  minute's  duration,  though  it 
seemed  of  interminable  length  to  the  entire  company. 
Bellenden  was  the  first  to  speak. 

"  As  a  man  of  taste,  sir,"  he  said  calmly  and  delib- 
erately, "  I  cannot  praise  this  effort  of  the  muse.  It 
halts  sadly  and  it  owes  besides,  or  I  much  mistake,  a 
line  to  Mr.  Pope  at  his  worst,  as  if  your  poet's  ingenuity 

251 


God's  Puppets 


must  needs  borrow  something  of  another's  brains  to  eke 
out  the  poverty  of  his  own.  In  short,  sir,  if  you  will 
have  my  opinion  the  verses  are  most  villainously  writ." 

Moulton  struck  the  table  angrily  with  the  folded 
paper. 

"  At  least,  my  good  critic,"  sneered  he,  "  there's  no 
fault  to  be  found  with  the  sense." 

"  Does  it  contain  sense  ?  Egad !  I  never  looked  for 
that  pearl  there,  I  only  heeded  the  sound — it  so  got  into 
my  ears,  confusing  'em.  It  made  me  think  of  a  time 
at  home  when  I  was  sitting  at  White's  and  a  fellow  in 
the  street  was  playing  the  bagpipe ;  my  teeth  were  set 
on  edge  with  the  noise,  I  remember,  and  I  let  fly  the 
first  thing  that  came  to  hand,  knowing  'twas  but  what 
the  wretch  merited.  Nay,  I  could  never  bear  with 
some  noises  and  damn  me !  if  hearing  vile  poetry  vilely 
read  isn't  the  worst  of  'em  all.  'Tis  a  monstrous  waste 
of  good  wine,  some  would  say,  but  I  know  no  better 
use  to  make  of  it  than  in  this  fashion."  As  he  spoke 
he  threw  the  contents  of  his  glass  into  the  jeering  face 
opposite. 

"  'Sdeath !  you'll  answer  for  this,"  Moulton  choked 
through  the  liquor  coursing  down  his  cheeks. 

"  With  pleasure,  when  you  will,  where  you  will,  how 
you  will." 

"  Nay,  you'll  answer  for  it  now." 

"  That  would  be  to  my  best  liking.  I  was  ever  one 
with  the  poet : '  defer  not  till  to-morrow  to  be  wise.'  " 

"  Then  out  with  your  sword,  sir.  Clear  a  space, 
gentlemen,  give  us  room.  Or  stay,  let's  adjourn  to  the 
garden,  there'll  be  less  danger  there  of  interruption 
from  the  watch." 

252 


The  Weekly  "Post-Boy" 

"  A  happy  suggestion  that.  I  second  it  with  all  my 
heart.  We  want  no  interference  in  this  matter.  After 
you,  sir." 

The  company  had  almost  instantly  divided  into  two 
groups,  the  one  composed  of  Moulton  and  his  friends, 
the  other  of  Bellenden  and  his. 

They  made  their  way  now  with  but  little  noise  out 
to  the  piazza  and  thence  to  the  garden  below.  The  two 
cousins  walked  side  by  side. 

"  I  wish  I  was  you,  Jack,"  Larry  said  sadly.  "  I'd 
like  to  put  my  mark  on  that  low  fellow.  'Twas  he  that 
writ  that  poetry,  I'll  swear.  He's  had  a  grudge  against 
Peggy  ever  since  she  laughed  at  his  wooing — as  if  she 
would  have  stooped  to  him,"  he  stopped  contemptu- 
ously. "  But  how  the  devil  did  he  hear  of  the  domine," 
he  demanded  the  next  moment,  "  through  Annetje,  do 
you  think?  P'r'aps  he  knows  the  little  gate,  too,  eh? 
'Twas  in  the  verse." 

Bellenden  came  to  a  standstill,  a  sudden  light  dawn- 
ing upon  him.  "  Through  Annetje — my  God,  yes — 
yes,  of  course — she  was  the  only  one  to  see  Peggy  in 
the  garden  that  day."  He  ground  his  teeth  in  rage. 
"  She's  let  her  tongue  wag  to  her  neighbors,  damn 
her!" 

"  She  may  not — "  Larry  began. 

"  Let  her  go,"  Bellenden  interrupted  hotly.  "  I'm  fin- 
ished with  her.  Nothing  can  undo  the  mischief  she's 
wrought.  God !  if  she  was  only  a  man  and  in  Moul- 
ton's  place  for  five  minutes — that's  all  I'd  ask." 

They  turned  into  the  path,  down  which  the  others 
were  passing,  and  walked  gravely  along.  The  air, 
sweet  with  the  perfume  of  dew-bedrenched  flowers,  was 

253 


God's  Puppets 


doubly  refreshing  after  the  stifling  atmosphere  of  the 
room  they  had  just  quitted,  with  its  fumes  of  wine  and 
the  drip  of  tallow  candles.  The  little  pause  of  quiet 
was  welcome,  too,  though  it  held  danger,  and  perhaps 
death,  in  its  clasp.  It  brooded  over  them  with  the 
weight  of  mystery  in  its  still  breath. 

"  Tell  Peggy,"  Bellenden  said  swiftly,  breaking  the 
silence. 

"  I  won't  be  burdened  with  messages,"  Larry  cried, 
his  face  twitching  despite  himself.  "  There's  no  need 
for  'em,  Jack,  you're  going  to  pink  him,  bleed  him,  kill 
him — you  know  you  are !  And  so  you'll  carry  your  own 
messages,  old  fellow." 

"  But  there's  a  chance  that  he'll  do  for  me ;  he's  mas- 
ter of  his  weapon,  I've  been  told.  'Tis  but  a  fancy  of 
mine  anyway  and  if  the  worst  befalls  me,  why  tell 
Peggy  I've  dreamed  of  Paradise " 

"  Tut,  tut,  man,  don't  talk  of  the  place  at  a  time  like 
this;  'tis  enough  to  make  a  jelly  of  your  courage. 
Come,  here  we  are." 

They  joined  the  others  where  they  stood — the  two 
parties  still  separate — in  a  little  clearing  well  removed 
from  the  house.  Someone  had  brought  out  a  torch 
and  had  stuck  it  in  the  earth  where  the  garish,  orange 
flame  showed  crude  and  artificial  in  the  beauty  of  the 
scene.  The  night  was  clear;  remote  stars  burned  in 
the  heavens  and  a  waning  moon  was  making  its  slow 
way  across  the  sky.  It  swung  above  them,  pale  and 
languid,  like  the  ghost  of  a  passion  long  since  dead, 
looking  down  wearily,  ironically,  upon  the  hate  and 
discord  in  this  little  place  of  life.  The  white  light 
smote  the  still  tree-tops  into  a  weird  loveliness;  the 

254 


The  Weekly  "Post-Boy" 

beams,  moving  lower,  blanched  boughs  and  shrubs  and 
made  a  path  of  radiance  across  the  grass.  Heavy 
shadows  gathered  outside  the  plain  of  light  and  hov- 
ered beneath  the  bushes  and  in  the  thickets  like  waiting 
foes.  The  ground  dipped  sharply  to  the  river  that 
throbbed  black,  and  almost  voiceless,  in  the  dark  be- 
yond ;  it  was  like  that  other  river — of  which  each  man 
present  had  heard  some  word — whose  dank  chill  struck 
across  the  soft,  sweet  air. 

Bellenden  and  Moulton  stepped  forward  into  the 
very  heart  of  the  white  glory.  They  stood  facing  each 
other,  looking  unflinchingly  into  each  other's  eyes  for 
the  moment,  then  they  saluted  punctiliously  at  the  given 
signal,  as  if  the  exquisite  courtesy  of  the  formality  were 
some  token  of  friendliness  which  did  not  conceal  a  bit- 
terer, darker  intent. 

There  was  a  flash  of  steel,  the  smiting  of  blade  on 
blade — and  across  the  tumult  came  the  voice  of  the 
watchman  in  the  street  beyond,  calling  the  hour: 

"  Past  two  o'clock,  my  masters,  and  a  fair  morning." 


255 


XXII 

AT  TRINITY  OF  A  SUNDAY 

Mrs.  Crewe  twitched  her  head  impatiently  away  from 
her  woman's  hands  and  turned  in  her  chair  at  the  sound 
of  the  opening  door. 

"  Peggy,"  she  cried  in  a  voice  of  displeasure  as  she 
recognized  the  new-comer. 

"  Just  Peggy,"  the  girl  answered  with  a  touch  of 
bravado,  though  she  looked  tired  and  white,  and  her 
eyes  were  full  of  an  unaccustomed  gravity — "  Peggy 
the  wretch,  the  sinner,  come  home  again.  Are  you  glad 
to  see  her  ?  " 

"  I  wonder  you  dare  show  yourself  here.  Tis  too 
brazen-faced !  The  whole  town  is  talking  of  you." 

"  I  know,  Larry  rid  out  to  Greenwich  last  night  with 
the  information.  He  showed  me  the  Post-Boy,  too." 

Mrs.  Crewe  groaned  aloud. 

"  The  whole  town — I  shall  never  survive  it — never ! 
Filkins,"  she  continued  sharply,  "  do  you  go  on  with 
your  work.  I  don't  pay  you  to  stand  with  idle  hands. 
Lower  that  curl — you've  dragged  it  so  tight  it  makes 
me  look  hidjus.  Not  so  far  down — oh!  I  should 
think  you  could  see  for  yourself  how  outrageous  unbe- 
coming it  is,  but  my  servants  never  take  any  interest  in 
their  work.  So  it's  over  and  done  with  quickly,  that's 
all  they  ask.  There!  that's  better,  but  the  pin — oh! 
you're  driving  it  into  my  very  skull —  I  think  you  do  it 

256 


At  Trinity  of  a  Sunday 

on  purpose,  you  hussy.  You  ought  to  have  more  feel- 
ing after  all  the  time  you've  been  here,  and  I  always 
kindness  itself  to  you — you  ought  to  be  considerate 
when  I'm  half  distracted  with  these  slanders — we're 
undone  forever ! " 

"  La,  mamma,  don't  take  it  so  much  to  heart.  'Twill 
be  forgot  as  soon  as  a  fresh  trouble  for  someone  else 
arises.  We  women  sweeten  our  tea  with  scandal,  and 
no  one  remembers  last  week's  dish  when  one  is  satisfy- 
ing one's  thirst  with  a  new  brew." 

"  There  you  go,  trying  to  find  some  excuse  for  your- 
self. Heaven  knows  what  I've  done  to  have  such  a 
child !  I  never  slept  the  whole  night  through  thinking 
of  your  conduct — you  can  see  the  ravages  on  my  face. 
Filkins,  put  on  more  red.  What  gown  have  you  laid 
out  for  me?  My  green  taffetas,  did  you  say?  By 
whose  orders,  stupid,  by  whose  orders  ?  I  said  my  yel- 
low lute-string." 

"  Then  my  blue  won't  clash  with  your  gown," 
Peggy's  cool  voice  cut  in.  "  I'm  glad,  for  my  heart 
was  set  on  wearing  it  to-day." 

"  Where  are  you  going,  miss?  " 

"  To  Trinity,  of  course.  Where  else  should  I  go  of 
a  Sunday  morning?  Isn't  that  what  a  devout,  well- 
brought  up  girl  would  do  ?  "  Peggy  paused,  then  she 
went  on  her  defiant  tones  growing  almost  wistful, 
"  Don't  you  see  the  people  won't  talk  so  much  if  I  am 
there  ?  My  presence  will  give  the  lie  to  their  words." 

"  'Twill  but  confirm  them — you're  as  white  as  a  mar- 
ble image  and  fallen  off  desperately  in  your  looks." 

"  They  won't  see  that  when  I've  on  my  fine  feathers. 
Never  fear,  madam,  I  won't  do  you  any  discredit." 

257 


God's  Puppets 


"  You've  done  me  enough  as  it  is,"  the  older  woman 
retorted.  "  Ain't  the  whole  town  laughing  at  me — at 
me,  looking  on  at  you  riding  the  race,  ignorant  that  it 
was  you  ?  " 

"  La,  who  says  I  rode  the  race — who  can  prove  it?  " 

"  But  everyone  is  talking  of  it  and  of  those  Dutch 
people  who  took  you  in — Ryer — Ryer — something. 
Hang  the  creatures !  I'd  like  to  see  them  at  the  whip- 
ping-post." 

"  And  I  too,  madam,  especially  that  little  she-thing," 
Peggy  cried  between  her  teeth.  "  'Tis  not  often  we 
agree  so  well." 

"Then  that  poetry!  Half  the  town  has  it  off  by 
heart  already,  I'll  swear.  Lord,  who  writ  it?  That 
sneaking  Moulton,  do  you  think  ?  It's  like  him  but  for 
the  wit,  for  wit  there  is,  though  your  cousin  made  the 
lack  of  it  his  cause  for  quarrelling.  Oh !  if  I  was  you, 
Miss,  I'd  want  to  go  away  and  hide.  I'd  die  of  shame 
because  of  all  this  trouble — scandal  such  as  never  was, 
and  a  brave  man  brought  to  death's  door  for  your  sake." 

Peggy  caught  at  the  dressing-table  with  shaking 
hands  that  jarred  the  bottles  and  boxes  there  into  a 
tinkling  commotion. 

"  Larry  said  'twas  but  the  veriest  scratch,"  she  cried 
in  a  dull,  toneless  whisper,  her  eyes  wide  with  fear. 

"  Larry — pouf ! — of  course,  he'd  say  so.  There  was 
a  great  deal  of  blood  shed,  a  great  deal.  Mr.  Willet  was 
mad  with  rage.  He  says  gentlemen  oughtn't  to  bring 
their  differences  into  a  coffee-house  and  its  pleasure- 
grounds,  it  gives  the  place  a  bad  name;  if  they  must 
meet  there's  Golden  Hill,  or  Ranelagh,  or " 

"  But  Jack  ?  Larry  swore  on  his  honor  'twas  only 
258 


At  Trinity  of  a  Sunday 

a  pin-prick  through  the  shoulder — he  swore  it  twenty 
times." 

"  Twenty,  or  forty,  it  makes  no  difference ;  he  did  it 
to  save  your  feelings.  I  have  it  on  good  authority  that 
Jack's  wounded  past  cure — that  patch  a  little  higher, 
Filkins,  nearer  the  eye,  so — !  And  Moulton " 

"  Leave  Moulton  alone.  Who  cares  one  way,  or  the 
other?"  The  defiant  voice  broke  and  Peggy's  hand 
slipped  to  her  mother's  negligee.  "  I — I — why  it  can't 
be  true  about  Jack,"  she  stammered  faintly.  "  Tell  me 
it  isn't  true." 

"  Lud,  Miss  Peggy,"  Filkins  interposed,  "  sit  you 
right  down.  See,  mem,  if  she  hath  not  gone  as  white 
as  curds  even  to  her  very  lips." 

"  There,  child,  sit  down — do,"  Mrs.  Crewe  cried  pet- 
tishly. "  I  declare  you've  given  me  a  dreadful  turn. 
Where  are  my  drops,  Filkins,  and  my  volatile  salts? 
Quick,  get  'em  for  me.  Lord,  Peggy,"  she  continued 
sharply,  "  I  didn't  suppose  you  cared  so  much  for  the 
fellow  as  that." 

A  sudden  flame  of  red  chased  the  white  from  the 
girl's  face  and  she  tossed  back  her  head  defiantly, 
though  she  trembled  against  Filkins's  arm  and  clung 
to  its  support. 

"  Who  says  I  care  ?  "  she  cried  with  spirit.  "  It 
always  makes  me  giddy  to  hear  about  blood  and — and 
— such  things.  Besides,  I've  had  a  longish  ride,  and  I 
didn't  sleep  well  last  night." 

"  That's  it,  that's  it,  now  rest  you  quiet,  miss,"  Fil- 
kins crooned,  "  'taint  to  be  wondered  at  your  feeling 
so.  My  Lady  Betty  Withers  at  home  had  just  the 
same  weak  stomick  as  you,  she  couldn't  a-bear  to  hear 

259 


God's  Puppets 


about  juels  and  wounds — she'd  fall  to  shaking  at  the 
mere  word  of  'em — and  she'd  go  white  if  she  pricked 
her  finger  ever  so  little — that  she  would !  'Twas  the 
constitution  and  the  sensibility,  she  said,  as  only  goes 
with  the  first  families.  Come,  miss,  sit  quiet,  there's  a 
love,  and  watch  me  fix  your  mamma.  Ain't  my  lady 
just  ravishing  this  morning,  and  don't  that  style  of  hair- 
dressing  become  her  ?  " 

The  woman  returned  obsequiously  to  her  place  be- 
hind her  mistress.  "  Lud,  mem,"  she  simpered,  "  a 
hundred  times  it's  been  on  the  tip  of  my  tongue  to  tell 
you  that  I  saw  Mr.  Larry's  gentleman  this  morning,  and 
he  told  me  that  those  shocking  stories  we  heard  over- 
night about  poor,  dear  Capting  Bellenden  hadn't  a  word 
of  truth  in  'em.  The  Capting,  mem,  hath  sustained  but 
the  smallest  injury — oh !  the  very  smallest — he  will  be 
abroad  in  a  day  or  so." 

"  Very  good  news  indeed,  Filkins,"  Mrs.  Crewe  ob- 
served complacently.  "  Where's  the  powder  ?  I  de- 
clare I  can  go  to  church  now  with  a  thankful  heart  and 
I  was  feeling  so  low  about  the  poor  fellow."  She 
glanced  sharply  at  the  figure  on  the  sofa,  then  her  face 
softened  a  trifle.  "  You'd  better  not  think  of  coming, 
child." 

"  Nay,  madam,  'tis  as  you  say,  though  I,  too,  might 
carry  with  me  a  thankful  heart  because  our  cousin  has 
not  suffered  too  deeply  in  my  cause.  Larry  and  I 
thought,"  Peggy  faltered  a  little,  "  we  thought — as  long 
as  I  must  come  home  some  time — that  'twould  be  best 
to  be  here  now.  'Twould  look  as  if  I  was  innocent  of 
all  the  monstrous  things  folks  say." 

"  H — mm !  there's  some  truth  in  that  of  course," 
260 


At  Trinity  of  a  Sunday 

Mrs.  Crewe  mused.  "  They'd  be  apt  to  argue  that  if 
you  were  guilty  you'd  stay  away.  But  your  arm  ?  " 

"  La,  mamma,"  Peggy  laughed,  "  you're  not  ever  go- 
ing to  believe  that  silly  story.  Why,  see,  one  arm  looks 
like  the  other — to  my  eyes,  at  least." 

"  Ay,  mem,  if  so  be  that  you  will  pardon  my  speak- 
ing, there's  naught  amiss  with  my  young  lady  that  any 
one  could  remark — a  little  palish  perhaps,  but  Mrs.  Ben- 
net  will  soon  mend  that.  And  the  blue  gown  goes  so 
beautiful  with  your  yellow  lute-string,  mem, — 'tis  the 
advantageousest  way  to  set  it  off!  It's  my  humble 
opinion  that  you  two  ladies  should  always  be  seen  to- 
gether, looking  like  sisters  as  you  do,  for  no  one  would 
ever  think  you  was  mother  and  daughter,  as  Mr.  De 
Lancey's  gentleman  remarked  to  me  only  the  last  Sun- 
day you  walked  out  together.  '  Mother  ? '  says  he 
taken  aback  monstrously.  '  Stepmother  you  mean, 
mem,'  says  he, '  that's  all  I'll  believe,  though  you  swore 
never  so.'  And  I  just  laughs  for  answer.  '  Step- 
mother,' says  he  again,  '  come,  Mrs.  Filkins,  out  with 
the  plain  truth,  if  so  be  plain  is  the  word  to  use  about 
so  lovely  a  lady.'  But  I  wouldn't  give  him  no  satis- 
faction." 

"  La,  Filkins,  you'll  never  get  me  ready  in  time  if 
you  keep  up  such  a  chatter,  though  I  do  protest  you've 
surpassed  yourself  in  fixing  my  hair  this  morning.  I 
like  it  hugely.  There!  run  away  Peggy  love,  and 
dress  if  you  mean  to  accompany  me — it  lacks  a  half- 
hour  to  starting." 

A  little  more  than  a  quarter  of  a  century  earlier  New 
York  had  an  ill  name  among  the  Puritans  of  New  Eng- 

261 


God's  Puppets 


land,  because  "  it  was  too  much  given  over  to  Episco- 
pacy "  which,  some  years  before,  had  been  virtually  es- 
tablished by  law  in  a  large  part  of  the  province.  To 
those  serious-minded  folk  "  the  show,  and  ostentation, 
and  purse  pride  "  which  obtained  in  the  town  seemed 
to  be  an  effectual  barrier  to  the  kingdom  of  Heaven, 
but  despite  their  intervention,  which  bore  unmistak- 
able fruits  of  righteousness,  the  high-church  party  con- 
tinued to  flourish  and  people  of  all  denominations  were 
obliged  to  contribute  to  its  support. 

The  "  English  set,"  as  those  who  worshipped  at  Trin- 
ity came  to  be  called,  was  composed  of  the  Governor 
ex  officio,  his  council,  and  the  fashionable  inhabitants 
of  the  colony,  who  represented  largely  the  most  conse- 
quential families  in  the  province.  It  was  an  aristocratic 
company,  therefore,  that  met  in  the  church  of  a  Sunday 
morning  to  listen  to  a  little  sermonizing  and,  at  the 
close  of  the  services,  to  indulge  in  unlimited  scandal- 
mongering  and  flirtation  among  the  graves  without. 

Trinity,  at  that  time,  was  a  social  register  where  one 
might  discover  what  persons  of  importance  were  in 
town.  The  latest  arrivals  from  England  made  their 
first  public  appearance  within  its  walls,  as  did  also  the 
visitors  from  the  manors,  and  the  country-people  in 
general,  though  they  might  belong  to  other  denomina- 
tions. It  was  the  speediest  way  to  advertise  their  pres- 
ence. Even  rigid  Presbyterians,  forgetful  for  the 
nonce  of  the  antagonism  existing  between  them  and 
the  Episcopalians  (a  feud  that  was  being  materially 
increased  by  the  growing  dissensions  between  the  two 
representative  families  of  the  rival  churches),  availed 
themselves  of  this  custom  to  spread  the  news  of  their 

262 


At  Trinity  of  a  Sunday 

return  to  their  homes  and  sat  complacently  under  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Barclay,  quite  unmindful  of  the  fact  that  their 
own  house  of  prayer  opened  its  doors  to  them  only  a 
few  steps  away  in  Wall  Street. 

All  the  world,  in  Peggy's  parlance,  seemed  to  have 
invaded  Trinity  the  Sunday  after  the  duel  at  the  Prov- 
ince Arms.  The  square,  roomy  pews,  made  more  com- 
fortable with  "  the  great  luxuries  "  of  cushions  and 
hassocks,  were  filled  by  the  owners  and  their  families ; 
there  was  not  a  vacant  place  anywhere,  save  in  the  big 
pew  well  up  toward  the  front,  where  persons  of  the 
greatest  social  prominence  sat,  and  that  was  significant- 
ly empty.  As  the  organ  pealed  out  the  last  notes  of  the 
Gloria,  there  was  a  swift  sound  throughout  the  church, 
scarcely  musical  and  yet  not  dissonant,  of  brass  tinkling 
on  brass  as  the  little  green  moreen  curtains — hanging 
from  the  slender  rail  surrounding  each  pew  to  shield 
the  occupants  from  observation  during  prayers — were 
drawn  back  almost  by  one  accord  and  the  people  settled 
themselves  to  follow  the  sermon,  for  the  worthy  divine 
had  ascended  the  pulpit  and  was  about  to  give  out  his 
text. 

He  paused,  according  to  his  custom,  and  surveyed 
his  flock  in  a  gently  urbane  manner,  looking  slowly 
from  right  to  left,  and  from  left  to  right,  as  if  scanning 
each  face  within  his  range  of  vision.  As  his  glance 
lingered  on  its  way  the  quiet  of  the  sacred  edifice  was 
broken  by  a  slight  commotion  at  the  door,  the  sound  of 
advancing  steps  on  the  stone  pavement  of  the  aisle, 
the  swish  of  silken  draperies,  and  then,  in  full  sight  of 
the  congregation,  the  belated  comers  swept  to  the  empty 
pew  near  the  chancel  rail. 

263 


God's  Puppets 


Mrs.  Crewe,  a  trifle  in  front  of  her  companions, 
moved  languishingly  along,  a  self-righteous  little  sim- 
per upon  the  fixed  red  of  her  face,  her  yellow  lute- 
string gown,  with  its  garnishing  of  silver,  floating 
around  her  like  a  sun-touched  cloud.  She  was  an  ele- 
gant figure,  from  the  waving  plumes  in  her  hat  to  the 
tip  of  her  satin  slipper  that  peeped  decorously  from 
beneath  her  petticoat  as  she  walked,  yet — after  a  single 
glance — no  one  heeded  her,  nor  was  any  but  the  scant- 
est  notice  accorded  to  the  young  fop  strutting  in  her 
wake.  A  slim,  girlish  shape  riveted  the  attention 
everywhere.  It  was  impossible  to  believe — impos- 
sible! The  same  graceful  bearing  they  were  all  ac- 
customed to  see,  the  head  carried  high,  the  Sunday  face 
— devout,  demure — presented  to  them  in  profile,  the 
eyes  fixed  discreetly  on  the  pulpit  beyond —  Innocence 
in  blue  lute-string,  with  a  bunch  of  little  country  flowers 
at  her  breast. 

An  involuntary  stir,  like  the  rustle  of  leaves  when 
the  finger  of  the  approaching  storm  touches  them  in 
swift  monition  of  danger,  ran  its  round  from  pew  to 
pew.  There  were  other  sounds  bravely,  almost  in- 
stantly, suppressed;  a  gasp  of  amazement  that,  on  a 
sudden,  turned  to  a  sigh,  a  sneer  that  became  a  sneeze, 
a  smile — trembling  on  the  brink  of  laughter — that  safe- 
guarded itself  as  a  cough,  and  the  quick,  agitated  sweep 
of  the  fans  everywhere,  setting  ribbons  and  laces  a-flut- 
ter and  rattling  out  an  indescribable  meaning  against 
the  breasts  of  their  owners.  Then  quiet  settled  down 
again,  save  for  the  little  clatter  of  fan-sticks,  not  an 
unusual  accompaniment  of  a  summer  Sunday — and  the 
sonorous  voice  of  the  clergyman  filled  the  church. 

264 


At  Trinity  of  a  Sunday 

The  Rev.  Henry  Barclay  had  had  some  misgivings  at 
the  time  of  the  composition  of  this  particular  sermon. 
It  had  seemed  to  him  to  be  short — a  noble,  notable  ef- 
fort, but  wofully  short — five  minutes,  nay,  ten  minutes' 
shorter  by  the  slowest  reading  than  the  usual  length 
of  his  sermons.  But  his  peroration  being  couched  in 
well  rounded  terms  and  the  weather  being  unconscion- 
ably warm,  he  had  the  good  sense  to  leave  well  enough 
alone,  trusting  that  his  parishioners  would  not  notice 
the  brevity  which,  in  any  other  instance  might  safely 
be  attributed  to  wit,  but  which  here — he  felt  almost 
guiltily — must  signify  a  mental  deficiency  of  some  sort. 

Short  then,  by  actual  page  and  delivery  measurement, 
the  sermon  undeniably  was ;  and  yet,  never  within  the 
walls  of  Trinity  had  there  seemed,  to  the  majority  of 
the  listeners  assembled  there,  one  so  tediously  dull  and 
lengthy.  The  women  fidgeted  in  their  seats  and  cast 
indignant  looks  at  the  pulpit.  Would  he  never  be 
through?  No  one  knew  the  text,  no  one  cared  what 
it  was,  and  still  Mr.  Barclay  droned  on  in  that  slow  pre- 
cise fashion  of  his,  slower  and  more  precise  than  usual 
this  morning  as  he  best  knew  why,  though  his  people 
were  in  the  darkness  of  ignorance. 

If  the  sermon  seemed  long  to  the  others,  it  was 
doubly  so  to  the  girl  who  furnished  the  subject-matter 
for  much  of  the  thinking  that  went  on  within  the  sacred 
place.  She  kept  her  gaze  riveted  upon  the  benign  face 
above  her,  knowing  only  too  well  that  those  of  her 
neighbors  who  could  watch  her  were  cognizant  of 
every  least  change  in  her  expression  and  every  motion 
of  her  body.  She  tired  with  the  unusual  strain ;  ordi- 
narily she  did  not  preserve  so  discreet  a  demeanor. 

265 


God's  Puppets 


Sometimes  (generally)  she  looked  around  numberless 
times  to  see  who  was  present,  sometimes  (generally) 
she  yawned  twice,  or  thrice,  behind  her  fan,  sometimes 
(generally)  she  sent  arch  glances  to  those  of  her  lovers 
within  reach  of  her  eye,  and  very  often  she  would  fur- 
ther divert  herself  by  making  a  doll  out  of  her  hand- 
kerchief to  match  the  one  little  Johnny  Watts  would 
concoct  in  the  adjoining  pew  and  each  puppet  would 
seek  to  outvie  the  other  in  a  series  of  marvellous  per- 
formances. But  this  day — eyes  straight  before  her, 
head  high,  features  immovable — she  must  sit  and  sit, 
and  Mr.  Barclay  seemed  to  be  going  on  forever ! 

Every  minute  was  like  an  hour  to  her.  She  let  her 
glance  wander  to  the  altar-piece  at  the  rear  and  studied 
the  familiar  details,  though  they  were  powerless  to  hold 
her  attention  long.  She  knew  all  the  adornments  of 
the  church  by  heart ;  the  little  gilt  busts  of  the  winged 
angels  at  the  tops  of  the  pillars  supporting  the  galleries, 
the  glass  branches  suspended  from  the  ceiling,  their 
beauty  enhanced  at  this  time  by  the  sunlight  that  played 
among  them  in  red,  and  green,  and  yellow  sparkles,  the 
different  escutcheons  on  the  walls  and  the  furniture  of 
the  communion-table,  desk  and  pulpit.  From  where 
she  sat  she  could  catch  a  glimpse  of  a  sculptured  en- 
tablature on  the  side  wall,  and  she  shivered  at  the 
thought  of  what  it  signified — the  name  cut  deep  in  the 
stone,  and  beneath  the  floor  the  vault  containing — 
She  shivered  again.  Every  pulse  in  her  body  was  ting- 
ling with  the  mere  joy  of  living;  she  was  in  love  with 
life,  and  the  idea  of  its  grim  counterpart  filled  her  with 
unaccountable  terror.  She  put  the  thought  from  her, 
trying  to  think  of  something  different  and  suddenly  her 

266 


At  Trinity  of  a  Sunday 

mother's  words  sounded  again  in  her  ears :  "  A  brave 
man  brought  to  death's  door ! "  The  whole  place 
seemed  to  swim  round,  echoing  with  them. 

She  set  her  teeth  hard  on  her  lip.  She  was  very 
tired.  So  many  things  had  contributed  to  her  fatigue ; 
the  long  anxious  night,  the  slow  coming  of  dawn,  the 
sickening  distaste  for  food  that  had  made  breakfast 
impossible,  the  drive  down  in  the  lumbering  chaise 
whose  revolving  wheels  had  comforted  her  a  little  with 
their  refrain  "  a  mere  scratch — a  mere  scratch — "  and, 
at  the  end,  to  be  met  with  that  other  news  "  a  brave  man 
brought  to  death's  door !  "  Something  trembled  in  her 
throat,  she  made  a  swift  effort  to  maintain  her  self- 
control  and,  on  the  moment,  there  appeared  before  her, 
as  if  heaven-sent,  Filkins's  simpering  face  with  its  thin, 
flat  mouth  primmed  up  as  if  holding  invisible  pins. 
What  was  it  she  had  said  ?  "  Abroad — "  yes ! — yes ! 
— "  abroad  again  in  a  day  or  so——" 

Peggy  almost  laughed  aloud  with  the  relief  that  came 
to  her.  She  steadied  herself  and  glanced  furtively 
around,  wondering  how  it  would  seem  if  she  were  to 
encounter  anyone's  eyes.  Lenny  Lispenard's,  for  in- 
stance, that  young  boy-lover  of  hers.  Would  she  find 
a  new  boldness  in  his  gaze  because  of  what  she  had 
done,  or  contempt,  or  just  the  old  adoration?  He  was 
such  a  nice  boy !  She  looked  up  resolutely,  looked  his 
way  with,  if  she  had  known  it,  an  unusual  wistfulness 
in  her  brown  eyes,  the  next  moment  a  little,  soft  smile 
tugged  at  the  corners  of  her  lips.  Well,  she'd  face  the 
whole  world  after  that,  and  hold  her  own. 


267 


XXIII 

THE  STRANDS  TIGHTEN 

"  Lord,  Jack,  you'd  died  a-laughing  to  see  the  way 
Peggy  routed  'em  all,  and  she  so  monstrous  sweet  and 
gentle  the  whole  time,  but  her  words  went  home,  sir — 
egad !  they  went  home." 

Bellenden  turned  an  attentive  face  toward  his  guest, 
smiling  grimly  to  himself;  none  knew  better  than  he 
the  direct  quality  of  his  young  cousin's  speech. 

"  I'd  my  misgivings  at  first,"  Larry  continued  re- 
flectively, "  but  they  didn't  last  long.  Peggy  wouldn't 
see  the  looks  that  made  my  blood  boil —  'Slife !  from 
our  pew  to  the  door  I  wished  a  thousand  times  that  the 
folks  had  but  one  head,  and  I'd  my  sword  handy  so  I 
might  smite  it  off.  Well,  sir,  what  d'you  think  ?  The 
first  thing  that  minx  did  was  to  get  Lewis  Morris  in 
tow — you  know  the  old  fellow — 'twas  his  horse  that 
so  nearly  won  that  day.  I'm  a  brave  man,  Jack,  but  my 
knees  shook  at  her  daring — and  she  as  unfluttered  as 
you  please." 

"  '  And  have  you  missed  me  at  all  ? '  says  the  jade, 
'  or  have  the  beauties  of  Morrisania  driven  poor  Peggy 
Crewe  entirely  from  your  memory?' 

"  *  No  beauties  anywhere  could  do  that/  says  he  with 
a  bow.  '  No  matter  how  they  may  take  our  eyes  some- 
times, there  is  but  one  that  hath  our  hearts.' 

" '  La,  sir,'  simpers  the  wretch,  '  you  overcome  me 
268 


The  Strands  Tighten 

with  kindness!  But  a  moment  since  I  called  myself 
poor,  now  I  can  never  apply  that  term  to  myself  again 
while  I  have  Mr.  Morris  for  a  friend.  Is  never  too 
long  a  word,  sir  ?  '  she  adds  amazing  soft. 

" '  It's  short  to  measure  the  term  of  our  friendship, 
child,'  he  answers,  in  a  voice  as  solemn  as  Mr.  Barclay's, 
'  there  hath  not  been  one  coined  yet  to  do  that.'  She 
shot  him  a  look  then,  I  can  tell  you.  '  And  what  mis- 
chief have  you  been  doing  ? '  he  laughs.  '  Speak  up, 
there's  no  place  like  a  church  for  confession.' 

"  '  Mischief,'  says  Peggy  with  a  long  face,  '  how  can 
you  suspect  me  of  that?  Why,  sir,  I've  just  this  morn- 
ing come  to  town.'  And  then,  off  she  goes  and  tells 
him  about  the  country  and  talks  most  learnedly  of  crops 
and  such,  and  my  gentleman  listening  with  all  his  ears. 
Tis  admitted  when  he  says  anything  he  never  departs 
from  it,  so  nothing  could  have  been  better  for  our  cause 
than  his  advocacy,  as  the  girl  knew.  Oh,  she  played 
her  cards  well !  By  the  time  she  reached  the  door  she 
was  holding  a  regular  levee." 

Larry  paused,  chuckling  to  himself  at  the  remem- 
brance. 

"  'Twas  sport  I  wouldn't  have  missed  for  the  world," 
he  went  on, "  the  prettiest  give  and  take  you  ever  heard ! 
There  were  some  sarcastical  speeches  too,  but  Peggy 
turned  'em  off  without  the  quiver  of  an  eyelash,  though 
once  I  thought  she'd  come  a  cropper.  'Twas  when 
that  bony  Hutchinson  took  the  field.  '  La,  Peggy,  and 
did  you  do  much  riding? '  says  she.  Peggy  gave  her 
the  innocentest  look.  '  Why,  to  be  sure,  child,'  she 
says  simply,  '  there's  nothing  I  so  much  dote  on  when 
I'm  in  the  country  as  to  be  a-horseback.'  '  And  in 

269 


God's  Puppets 


town,  too,'  titters  Miss,  '  only  here  there's  always  the 
danger  of  a  fall/  '  For  some  riders,'  Peggy  says,  look- 
ing full  at  her.  At  which,  a  smile  went  round  among 
us  all  for  the  Hutchinson  wobbles  like  a  jelly  in  the 
saddle,  she  couldn't  sit  straight  even  on  Mary  Price's 
horse.  '  But  'tis  something  out  of  my  own  experience,' 
Peggy  goes  on,  as  modest  as  a  Quaker, '  I  have  no  fear, 
as  perhaps  my  friends  will  vouch.'  '  Ay,  that  we  will,' 
cries  Mr.  Morris.  '  There's  no  unseating  Miss  Peggy 
from  her  horse,  or  in  our  hearts.'  And  then  that 
precious  sister  of  mine  swept  him  a  curtsey,  and  taking 
a  flower  from  her  dress  she  kissed  it  and  handed  it  to 
him  before  the  whole  company." 

"  What's  your  mother's  attitude  ?  "  Bellenden  de- 
manded. 

"  Now  this,  now  t'other.  All  the  way  to  church  she 
rated  Peggy  soundly,  but  after,  she  was  in  better  hu- 
mor. Peggy  so  diverted  us,  mimicking  some  of  the 
folks,  that  my  mother  couldn't  hold  out  against  her ;  and 
between  their  two  tongues  they  didn't  leave  a  shred  of 
reputation  to  anyone  by  the  time  they  got  home.  'Twas 
cut  and  come  again  with  a  vengeance.  Oh!  she'll 
stand  by  the  girl  fast  enough  in  public,  however  she 
may  rate  her  in  private.  She  has  already  bidden  half 
the  town  to  our  house  to-morrow  night  for  quadrille 
and  whist,  and  I'll  lay  a  guinea  no  one  will  stay  away. 
She  writ  this  card  for  you." 

"  And  Bard  says  I  may  not  leave  this  room  till  the 
end  of  the  week,"  Bellenden  groaned.  "  Does  your 
mother  want  me?  What  does  Peggy  say?  " 

"  Yes  to  your  first  question ;  the  second  is  harder  to 
answer,  Peggy?  Lord!  Peggy  says  nothing  about 

270 


The  Strands  Tighten 

you.  There!  women  are  the  ungratef idlest  creatures 
living,  I  think.  Do  'em  a  favor  and  'tis  like  writing 
in  water.  My  sister's  the  lightest-hearted  jade  I  ever 
saw,  singing,  flirting,  dancing,  while  two  men  are  suf- 
fering on  her  account.  When  I  told  her  up  at  Green- 
wich of  the  duel  I  thought  she'd  some  sensibility  at 
first.  Gad!  I  looked  to  see  her  swoon,  she  went  so 
white — but  that  was  past  in  a  minute,  the  next  she  cries 
sharply :  '  I  thought  our  cousin  Bellenden  was  an  ex- 
pert at  swords.  How  comes  it  that  he  is  wounded? 
He  should  have  managed  better  for  my  sake.'  " 

Bellenden's  face  brightened. 

"  Why — why — "  he  stammered. 

"  Oh ! "  Larry  cut  in  almost  brutally,  "  you  can't 
suck  any  comfort  out  of  that.  She  meant  you'd — you'd 
— forgive  me,  Jack,  don't  you  see, — you'd  bungled. 
She  hadn't  a  word  of  thanks  for  what  you'd  done." 

Bellenden  turned  away  irritably. 

"  I  don't  want  any  thanks.  And  Moulton  was  as 
good  a  swordsman  as  I've  ever  seen ;  'tis  no  slight  on 
a  man's  skill  to  be  wounded  at  his  hands.  You  may 
tell  your  sister  that." 

"  Lord !  I  daren't,  and  save  my  skin  whole.  She's  a 
pepper-pot  if  Moulton's  name  is  mentioned,  she'll  hear 
nothing  of  him,  nor  of  fighting  either.  She's  in  a 
pretty  temper,  too,  about  Annetje —  I  think  she'd 
scratch  her  eyes  out  if  they  were  to  meet;  she  lays  all 
the  blame  at  her  door." 

"Where  it  belongs,"  Bellenden  interposed.  "The 
domine  knew  nothing  about  it,  I'll  be  bound." 

"  And  I  thought  her  an  angel,"  Larry  cried  ruefully, 
"  so  gentle  and  sweet,  I  was  vastly  taken.  Oh !  have 

271 


God's  Puppets 


nothing  to  do  with  girls,  sir,  leave  the  whole  lot — 
they're  builded  of  vanity  and  ingratitude,  honor  isn't 
in  their  make-up." 

"  Amen,  say  I.  You're  to  be  congratulated  for  hav- 
ing your  eyes  opened  so  early.  Yes,  let  them  go !  Get 
out  the  cards  there  and  have  up  a  bottle " 

"  But  the  doctor " 

"  The  doctor  be  hanged !  Can't  a  man  amuse  him- 
self as  he  likes  ?  There's  the  bell-rope  behind  you." 

The  affair  of  the  duel  occupied  the  town  for  several 
days,  and  the  lampoon  which  was  supposed  to  be  prima 
facie  its  cause  was  repeated  everywhere,  discredited  by 
some,  believed  by  others,  as  the  people  were  inclined  for, 
or  against,  the  Crewe  faction.  Peggy's  presence  upon 
the  scene  did  much  to  lessen  the  slanders,  for  no  tongue 
was  bold  enough  to  wag  when  she  was  within  ear-shot, 
however  loudly  it  might  contemn  her  the  moment  her 
back  was  turned. 

In  the  swift  succession  of  gayeties  organized  for  her 
entertainment,  as  well  as  in  the  interests  of  the  card- 
tables  and  their  stakes,  there  was  little  time  afforded 
for  the  discussion  of  scandal.  At  evening  concerts, 
however,  when  violins  and  German  flutes  discoursed 
most  eloquent  music,  and  where  the  '  thin,  metallic 
thrills  '  of  the  harpsichord  furnished  a  slight  accom- 
paniment to  the  whispered  gossip,  there  was  occasional 
mention  of  her  daring  and  conjectures  as  to  its  truth, 
or  falsity.  But  for  the  most  part  her  name  was  allowed 
to  rest  in  the  accumulation  of  newer  material.  The 
robbing  of  the  Philadelphia  coach,  over  which  the  timid 
shrieked,  the  losses  sustained  by  Madam  B —  at  quad- 

272 


The  Strands  Tighten 

rille,  the  defection  of  Miss  H — 's  lover,  the  elopement 
of  a  certain  lady  with  her  husband's  partner,  the  pecca- 
dilloes of  a  few  gilded  youth  and  all  the  other  tittle- 
tattle  of  the  town  yielded  sufficient  food  for  the  passing 
hour. 

As  for  Peggy,  herself,  she  danced,  sang,  chattered, 
flirted  from  morning  to  night,  presenting  to  the  world's 
eye  the  same  merry,  insouciant  face  as  formerly.  She 
allowed  herself  no  graver  moments.  If  she  thought 
of  Moulton  lying  at  death's  door,  or  of  Bellenden  con- 
fined to  his  room  by  his  wound,  she  gave  no  evidence 
of  such  thinking  in  her  demeanor.  Nor  did  society 
seem  to  remember  them,  having  a  fashion  of  forgetting 
those  who  do  not  live  within  the  range  of  its  vision. 
It  had  been  Peggy's  intention,  in  the  first  heat  of  her 
anger,  to  seek  out  Annetje  and  upbraid  her  for  her  fals- 
ity ;  but,  subjected  as  she  was  to  a  constant  surveillance, 
she  soon  realized  that  her  wisest  course  was  to  avoid  the 
neighborhood  of  the  Ryerssens's  home,  if  she  would 
free  her  skirts  entirely  from  the  charges  that  already,  in 
certain  quarters,  were  beginning  to  die  from  lack  of  any 
real  evidence.  There  was  small  danger  that  her  scorn 
for  the  girl's  disloyalty  would  be  lessened  because,  for 
the  time  being,  it  was  forced  to  remain  unexpressed. 

Meanwhile  other  influences  were  at  work  in  the  little 
portion  of  the  Dutch  community  which  acknowledged 
Domine  Ryerssen  as  its  pastor.  In  formulating  his 
scheme  of  revenge  Adrian  de  Hooge  had  not  clearly 
foreseen  the  ultimate  fate  of  the  intelligence  he  sub- 
mitted to  the  Post-Boy;  but  knowing  that  the  news- 
paper was  the  speediest  medium  for  reaching  the  public 
ear,  he  felt  confident  that  so  succulent  a  morsel  of  scan- 

273 


God's  Puppets 


dal  would  not  be  disregarded.  The  appearance  of  the 
lampoon,  and  the  duel  following  in  quick  succession, 
threw  him  into  a  state  of  delight  bordering  upon  ec- 
stasy. Let  men  quarrel  over  the  false  quantities  of  a 
verse;  he  knew,  and  the  world  knew,  how  flimsy  was 
the  pretext  in  veiling  the  real  cause.  He  gloated  over 
the  picture  of  the  wounded  contestants,  though  it  would 
have  pleased  him  better  if  Bellenden  and  his  adversary 
could  have  changed  places.  He  speedily  recognized, 
however,  that  in  one  way  Bellenden's  sufferings, 
though  not  so  dangerous  as  Moulton's,  were  keener — 
increased,  as  they  must  be,  by  his  suppositions  regard- 
ing Annetje's  violation  of  faith. 

It  was  all  De  Hooge  could  do,  at  this  time,  to  refrain 
from  seeking  out  the  girl  to  give  her  the  details  of  the 
duel.  As  a  boy  he  had  found  one  of  his  chiefest  de- 
lights in  watching  the  ineffectual  struggles  of  en- 
trapped animals  and  he  gloried  in  the  idea  of  Annetje's 
helplessness  under  his  sneers.  He  longed  to  taunt  her 
with  her  lover's  plight,  brought  about  in  defending  an- 
other woman's  name ;  he  wanted  to  see  her  droop  and 
whiten  under  the  vile  aspersions  he  would  cast  upon 
her.  It  seemed  as  if  this  were  a  fitting  revenge  for 
what  he  had  suffered  at  her  hands ;  then  he  put  the 
thought  resolutely  away.  He  had  formulated  a  scheme 
for  the  ultimate  confusion  and  downfall  of  the  old  do- 
mine  which  could  not  but  give  pain  to  the  daughter 
also;  and  her  own  punishment  would  not  be  long  de- 
layed, if  constant  espionage  on  his  part  could  bring  it 
about. 

The  news  of  the  duel  in  the  rear  of  the  Province 
Arms  spread  almost  immediately  in  and  around  Gar- 

274 


The  Strands  Tighten 

den  Street ;  it  became  the  current  topic  everywhere,  save 
in  the  domine's  household.  Jan  heard  it  with  trepida- 
tion, but  he  kept  it  jealously  to  himself ;  his  master  was 
utterly  unconscious  of  the  report  and  Heilke,  who  usu- 
ally gathered  gossip  as  if  it  were  some  precious  fruit, 
being  willing  to  go  far  a-field  for  its  ripest  clusters,  re- 
mained closely  within  doors  at  Annetje's  side.  As  for 
the  girl,  she  had  no  inclination  to  go  abroad  and  there 
was,  consequently,  not  the  slightest  suspicion  on  her 
part  that  harm  had  befallen  Bellenden.  Only  he  did 
not  come!  At  first,  love  found  many  excuses  to  ac- 
count for  his  absence,  save  the  bitter  truth ;  so  impossi- 
ble is  it  for  faith  to  perceive  unfaith.  But  after  a  time 
it  occurred  to  her  that  he  had  heard  of  the  gossip  con- 
cerning Peggy's  disguise,  which  was  rife  in  the  neigh- 
borhood, and,  thinking  she  had  divulged  the  secret,  he 
remained  away  in  his  anger.  She  longed  to  go  to  him 
and  plead  her  innocence.  That  he  would  believe  her, 
she  was  very  sure,  even  in  the  face  of  the  inexplicable 
mystery  which  surrounded  them.  Ignorant,  however, 
as  to  where  he  should  be  found,  she  shrank  from  mak- 
ing inquiries,  fearing  that  in  so  doing  she  might  dis- 
please him  further.  Her  own  indignant  denials  of  the 
story  to  Heilke  and  Jan  seemed  to  her  the  best  way  to 
serve  him. 

As  for  seeking  Peggy  at  Greenwich,  feasible  as  the 
idea  was,  it  was  speedily  dismissed.  Annetje  knew,  at 
the  time  of  their  guest's  departure,  that  she  was  going 
into  further  hiding,  and  to  go  to  the  little  village,  there- 
fore, demanding  her  whereabouts,  might  only  plunge 
the  girl  into  fresh  difficulties.  It  was  out  of  the  ques- 
tion. Not  even  to  vindicate  herself  could  Annetje 

275 


God's  Puppets 


make  the  captain's  cousin  suffer.  Besides,  would  she 
believe  her  ?  Would  she  not  mock  at  her  rather,  when 
the  little,  pitiful  veil  that  hid  her  true  feelings  should 
be  drawn  aside  ?  "  Do  you  love  him  ?  "  she  had  asked. 
Would  it  be  necessary  to  ask  that  now  ? 

The  days  dragged  by  leaden-footed,  yet  swifter  than 
a  weaver's  shuttle  when  compared  to  the  long,  still 
nights  with  the  dazzling  stars  that  would  not  pale.  A 
hundred  times  throughout  the  day  it  seemed  to  Annetje 
that  the  rippling  signal  called  to  her  from  bush  and 
tree,  the  whole  garden  rang  with  the  sounds;  though, 
on  fire  with  expectancy  as  she  was,  she  could  not  run 
to  discover  if  they  were  true  or  false.  Heilke  was  al- 
ways watching  her,  plying  her  with  questions  and  lay- 
ing tasks  mountain-high  for  her  to  execute.  Annetje 
felt  too  pitifully  weak  to  resist  the  stronger  will  and 
in  a  way  the  work  was  a  boon  to  her;  it  stopped  the 
dreadful  thoughts,  tired  her  and  deadened  the  ache  of 
suspense  in  her  breast. 

Finally,  throbbing  with  the  audacity  of  her  purpose, 
she  determined  to  write  to  Bellenden.  If  he  came  (as 
she  tried  to  cheat  herself  into  believing  he  had  come 
many  times !)  and  she  was  unable  to  evade  Heilke's  vig- 
ilance, he  might  look  for  some  message  from  her  in  the 
hollow  of  the  old  tree,  which  he  had  used  as  a  post- 
office  on  two  memorable  occasions.  She  guarded  the 
notes  he  had  hidden  there  as  her  most  precious  treas- 
ures. How  dark  the  days  had  been  because  he  didn't 
come — and  then,  in  a  moment,  how  bright,  and  beauti- 
ful, and  sweet !  Those  blessed  letters !  What  happiness 
was  hers  just  to  hold  them  in  her  hands,  against  her 
lips,  to  let  them  lie  near  her  heart,  to  go  over  them 

276 


The  Strands  Tighten 

again,  and  again,  until  she  knew  every  word.  If  she 
read  more  between  the  lines  than  had  existed  in  the 
writer's  intention,  she  was  not  the  first,  and  far  from 
being  the  last,  so  to  construe  a  love-letter. 

Her  decision  once  formed  she  went  stealthily  to  the 
study,  during  the  domine's  absence,  and  purloined  some 
paper  from  his  portfolio,  returning  almost  immediately 
to  Heilke's  side,  outwardly  calm  but  tingling  in  every 
nerve  of  her  body  with  the  enormity  of  her  enterprise. 
The  intervening  hours  before  she  could  go  to  her  room 
for  the  night  seemed  interminable  to  her,  but  when  she 
was  at  last  within  its  four  walls,  though  she  had  made 
a  rough  outline  in  her  mind  of  what  she  wished  to  say, 
she  did  not  set  about  her  writing  for  some  time.  She 
had  secreted  a  bit  of  candle  in  her  dress  and  she  waited 
for  the  noises  in  the  house  to  cease  before  she  lighted 
it ;  yet  that  night,  of  all  others,  Heilke  chose  to  be  wake- 
ful, and  moved  about  her  room,  muttering  wrath  fully 
to  herself.  Annetje  quivered  with  fear  lest  those  vig- 
ilant eyes  might  see  the  design  in  her  breast,  and  drew 
the  folds  of  the  window-curtain  more  closely  around 
her.  The  soft  night-air  came  in  like  some  cool  hand 
to  touch  her  hot  face;  she  leaned  farther  out  to  meet 
it  as  if  it  were  the  caress  of  a  lover. 

She  let  the  hours  go  by,  not  daring  to  risk  her  task 
by  disturbing  Heilke's  first  light  sleep ;  from  the  streets 
beyond  she  could  hear  the  cry  of  the  watch  calling  the 
time — '  past  eleven — '  '  past  twelve — '  '  past  one — ' 
At  the  last  words  she  got  to  her  feet  softly,  and,  striking 
a  spark  from  the  flint  upon  the  steel,  she  ignited  the  bit 
of  cambric  tinder,  trembling  lest  the  unwonted  sound 
should  give  the  alarm.  She  waited  momentarily  with 

277 


God's  Puppets 


the  little,  flickering  flame  in  her  hand,  then  in  the  si- 
lence that  settled  down  about  her  she  lighted  the  candle 
and  placed  it  upon  the  seat  of  the  chair,  kneeling  down 
beside  it  to  begin  her  letter.  As  she  smoothed  out  the 
paper  she  became  aware  that  she  had  neglected  to  pro- 
vide herself  with  either  pencil,  or  pen;  the  discovery 
stunned  her,  and  she  knelt  there  inertly,  letting  the 
precious  minutes  slip  by ;  presently,  however,  stung  to 
the  fact  that  she  must  act  necessity  showed  her  the 
way. 

She  took  up  the  candle  and  crossed  the  room  on  tip- 
toe, stopping  breathlessly  for  a  moment  on  the  thresh- 
old, then,  still  in  the  same  noiseless  fashion,  she  began 
to  descend  the  stairs.  The  house  lay  wrapped  in  dark- 
ness, save  for  the  tiny  point  of  light  which  moved  as 
she  moved.  She  reached  the  hall  and  passed  swiftly 
to  the  study.  The  door  was  closed  but,  as  she  put  out 
her  hand  to  open  it,  she  was  conscious  in  some  inex- 
plicable manner  that  the  room  was  not  untenanted — 
Yet  it  was  dark — dark !  She  paused  wondering,  listen- 
ing, every  nerve  in  her  body  stretched  to  its  utmost 
tension.  There  was  no  sound  within,  then  suddenly, 
as  she  waited,  there  came  a  sigh,  keyed  with  doubt  and 
pain,  and  a  low  murmur  of  words : 

"  Oh !  God,  what  shall  I  do?  " 

Her  hand  fell  away  from  the  knob.  In  an  instant 
she  remembered,  what  had  hitherto  glanced  off  from 
her  self-absorption,  that  her  father,  during  the  last  few 
days,  had  altered  indescribably.  She  had  not  noticed 
it  at  the  time,  but  now  it  flashed  upon  her,  almost  as  if 
he  stood  before  her  and  she  noted  the  ravages  of  trouble 
upon  his  face.  She  grasped  the  knob  softly  again, 

278 


The  Strands  Tighten 

pressing  against  the  door  as  if  to  open  it  the  more  read- 
ily ;  the  next  moment  she  started  back,  her  hand  falling 
to  her  side.  What  comfort  could  she  give?  Was  he 
not  sufficient  unto  himself?  If  she  should  go  to  him, 
would  not  his  first  question  be  why  she  was  there? 
Would  he  not  discover  the  true  meaning  of  her  er- 
rand? No,  he  must  suffer  alone,  as  she  must  suffer 
alone. 

She  turned  and  crept  back  to  her  room,  extinguish- 
ing the  candle  as  she  went,  then  she  sat  down  at  the 
window  again,  shivering  a  little.  All  over  the  world, 
perhaps,  others  were  keeping  just  such  vigils  as  she 
was  keeping  here,  and  her  father  was  keeping  there. 
She  had  not  comprehended  until  this  moment  that 
"  grief  walks  the  earth  and  sits  down  at  the  foot  of 
each  by  turns ;  "  but  suddenly,  with  the  realization  that 
suffering  brings,  she  understood  the  birthright  of  hu- 
manity. 

The  night  went  on  to  that  solemn  hush  that  comes 
before  the  dawn — the  hush  that  waits  on  death  and  life 
— and  she  still  sitting  there,  wakeful,  thinking  her  own 
thoughts,  heard  her  father  leave  his  study  and  stumble 
cautiously  up  the  stairs,  each  footfall  weighted  with 
fatigue.  Her  heart  stirred  with  a  great  wave  of  pity. 
How  old  and  tired  he  must  be  to  move  so  slowly !  How 
cruel  life  was!  Presently  the  door  of  his  room  was 
closed  softly  and  the  silence  lay  unbroken  around  her ; 
so  it  continued  for  a  while  longer,  save  for  the  cocks 
crowing  faintly  in  the  distance. 

It  was  almost  day.  She  descended  swiftly  once 
more  to  the  study,  found  quill  and  ink-well,  and  carried 
them  back  to  her  room  where  she  made  her  other  prep- 

279 


God's  Puppets 


arations  expeditiously.  She  was  but  an  indifferent 
pen-woman  at  best,  and  in  this  task  she  had  the  addi- 
tional difficulties  to  surmount  of  a  language  which  she 
spoke  with  inaccuracy,  and  had  had  but  little  experience 
in  writing.  The  letter  was  not  a  long  one — only  a  few, 
shaky  lines  that  ran  up  and  down  hill  lamentably  on 
one  side  of  the  sheet,  but  before  it  was  finished  the 
candle  had  burned  itself  out,  and  the  early  day  was  fill- 
ing the  land  with  a  glory  as  fresh  and  fair  as  that  other 
day  which  received  the  commendation  of  the  most 
High.  And  just  as  the  quill  fell  from  her  stiff,  little 
fingers,  the  last  word  written,  a  lark  flew  by  her  win- 
dow showering  down  note  after  note  of  rapture.  She 
followed  its  flight  with  shining  eyes,  then  fled,  fleet  as 
a  deer,  to  the  garden.  It  was  the  work  of  a  moment 
to  deposit  the  letter  and  to  return,  panting  slightly  after 
the  run  but  back  again  before  Heilke  set  foot  in  the 
kitchen. 

Throughout  the  rest  of  the  day  Annetje  waited,  busy 
at  her  different  tasks;  her  ears  strained  to  catch  the 
faintest  indication  of  the  signal.  Twice  she  was  al- 
most positive  that  she  heard  it,  once  clear,  sweet, 
plaintive,  then  again — after  an  interval  of  quiet — sharp 
with  impatience,  but  there  was  no  evading  the  strict 
watchfulness  to  which  she  was  subjected. 

The  sleepless  night  passed  slowly,  the  dawn  came 
again  flooding  the  land  with  its  silver  and  the  girl,  the 
first  astir  in  the  house,  ran  through  the  waking  garden 
to  the  old  tree.  She  peered  half-frightened  into  the 
aperture — peered  again,  her  eyes  widening,  her  whole 
frame  trembling.  The  letter  was  gone!  The  next 
moment  she  threw  herself  down  on  the  grass,  glisten- 

280 


The  Strands  Tighten 

ing  in  the  new-risen  sun  with  myriad  points  of  dew, 
and  flung  her  arms  about  the  old  dog's  neck. 

"  Oh !  Joris,"  she  breathed  against  his  ear,  "  oh ! 
Joris — "  then  she  turned  her  happy  face  to  the  sky,  her 
lips  dumb,  her  heart  quivering  with  a  great  gladness. 


281 


XXIV 

AN  UNWRITTEN  MESSAGE 

It  was  Joy — glowing-eyed,  rosy  cheeked,  lark- 
throated,  that  Heilke  found  in  the  cool  depths  of  the 
stone  dairy  at  the  churn,  singing  the  old  charm  in  time 
to  the  movements  of  the  dasher : 

" '  Buitterchee,  buitterchee,  comm  ; 
Alican  laidlechee,  tubichee  vail ! ' ' 

The  woman  stood  speechless,  scarcely  crediting  what 
she  saw.  She  could  not  reconcile  the  picture  of  this 
radiant,  laughing  creature  with  that  little,  white-faced, 
dejected  girl  who  had  crept  like  a  shadow  through  the 
house,  or  had  bent  silently  above  her  tasks,  on  the  yes- 
terday. She  looked  to  see  her  vanish  as,  good  house- 
wife that  she  was  and  retaining  her  superstitions,  she 
told  herself  the  evil  spirits  that  were  exorcised  by  the 
fresh,  lilting  voice  vanished  into  thin  air. 

But  Annetje  did  not  disappear.  She  was  tangible 
flesh  and  blood — never  so  gay,  never  so  tractable,  never 
so  helpful  before.  She  anticipated  Heilke's  wants  in  a 
thousand  ways,  she  was  light  of  foot,  deft  of  hand,  and 
through  all  her  services  there  tinkled  an  irrepressible 
murmur  of  song  as  if  the  little  bird  at  her  heart  must 
sing  from  sheer  ecstasy  and  never  tire. 

No  sound  of  the  happiness  that  glorified  the  rest  of 
the  house  penetrated  to  the  room  where  the  domine  sat 

282 


An  Unwritten  Message 

inertly  among  his  books.  For  the  first  time,  in  all  the 
years  of  his  ministry,  Saturday  was  at  hand  and  his 
sermon  still  unprepared.  Occasionally  the  thought  of 
this  neglect  of  duty  on  his  part  pricked  him,  and  he 
would  rouse  himself  from  his  abstraction  and  plunge 
into  a  fever  of  composition.  So  by  fits  and  starts  he 
worked  throughout  the  day,  with  little  interest  in  the 
undertaking,  and  night  had  grayed  in  before  the  dis- 
course was  finished.  He  pushed  it  from  him  then  with 
a  sigh  of  relief,  yet  he  was  thoroughly  dissatisfied  with 
his  efforts. 

It  was  very  still  everywhere.  Heilke  had  come  ear- 
lier with  his  supper  and  had  lighted  his  candles  and 
then  had  gone  away,  returning — after  the  lapse  of  an 
hour — to  remove  the  tray.  Her  hands  jarred  the  china 
in  their  distress  as  she  noted  the  untouched  food,  but 
she  left  the  room  without  a  word  either  of  reproach,  or 
coaxing,  going  back  to  the  kitchen  which,  whether  men 
ate  or  sulked,  must  be  set  in  order.  It  was  silent  there 
too.  Annetje  had  gone  to  her  own  room,  the  singing 
bird  was  mute  at  last,  but  still  happy. 

The  domine  did  not  change  his  position  for  some 
time.  He  was  so  motionless  one  would  have  thought 
him  asleep,  but  the  repose  of  his  body  did  not  penetrate 
below  the  quiet  exterior,  within  that  incessant  warfare 
robbed  him  of  any  peace.  Finally  he  rose  from  his 
chair  and  went  to  a  corner  cupboard  where  he  took 
from  one  of  its  shelves  a  small  lantern.  He  lighted  the 
candle  it  contained  and  after  finding  his  hat  he  extin- 
guished the  lights  on  his  table  and  left  the  room,  step- 
ping out  through  the  window  into  the  garden.  Thence 
he  passed,  almost  swiftly  for  him,  around  the  house  to 

283 


God's  Puppets 


the  deserted  street.  The  July  night  was  still  and  dark, 
everything  lay  shrouded  in  shadow.  The  far  away  stars 
gleamed  small  and  faint  through  the  thick  haze  which 
lay  like  a  veil  between  them  and  the  earth,  but  the  dom- 
ine  did  not  need  a  light  to  guide  him.  It  was  a  famil- 
iar way,  one  he  had  travelled  for  thirty-seven  years; 
he  could  have  gone  over  it  blind-folded,  not  deviating 
an  inch. 

The  church  reached,  he  unlocked  the  side  door  with 
the  key  he  always  carried  and  let  himself  into  the  silent 
building.  The  lantern  was  not  a  necessity  to  him  here 
any  more  than  it  had  been  without,  though  there  was 
something  heartening  in  its  gleam  which  made  it  very 
acceptable ;  it  was  like  the  presence  of  a  friend  who  has 
a  message  of  cheer.  He  held  the  light  up  and  threw 
its  little  beam  searchingly  around,  smiling  indulgently 
at  the  action  as  one  smiles  at  a  child.  He  knew  every 
detail  of  the  church — his  church — not  a  thing  escaped 
him.  He  flashed  the  lantern  on  the  iron-bound  strong 
boxes  that  stood  one  on  either  side  of  the  door — those 
boxes  for  the  poor,  with  the  small  hole  in  each  pad- 
locked lid,  and  painted  also  with  the  figure  of  a  beggar 
leaning  on  his  staff.  The  old  eyes  grew  misty  as  they 
looked.  To  give  to  the  needy — how  blessed! — how 
blessed !  He  could  almost  hear  the  sound  of  the  falling 
coins  as  he  paused  there.  It  was  very  sweet  music,  that 
chant  of  benevolence. 

He  moved  forward  step  by  step,  casting  the  light 
about  on  the  familiar  walls  where  the  painted  escutch- 
eons of  many  of  his  congregation  hung  between  the 
long,  narrow  windows  with  their  little  panes  of  glass, 
whereon  good  Master  Gerard  Duykinck  had  burned  the 

284 


An  Unwritten  Message 

arms  of  the  principal  families  who  worshipped  in  this 
house  of  prayer.  The  windows  in  the  semi-obscurity 
showed  the  merest  blotches  to  the  domine's  eyes,  yet 
mentally  he  reconstructed  each  one,  line  for  line,  legend 
for  legend.  Vestigia  nulla  retrorsum!  The  words 
leapt  out  before  him  almost  as  if  they  were  written  in 
letters  of  fire.  Vestigia  nulla  retrorsum !  The  lantern 
shook  in  his  hand,  he  lowered  it  quickly  and  drew  his 
breath  hard ;  all  the  little  elation  and  affection  he  had 
felt  for  these  adornments  of  his  church  dying  out  of 
his  face  as  it  settled  again  into  its  former  despair. 

He  crept  forward  after  that  very  slowly,  looking  nei- 
ther to  right  nor  left,  and  not  pausing  until  the  pulpit 
loomed  above  him,  then  he  came  to  an  abrupt  standstill 
at  the  foot  of  its  stairs.  Some  irresistible  impulse  had 
driven  him,  at  this  time,  to  seek  the  church  as  in  earlier 
days  sinning  men,  hunted  and  despairing,  sought 
Sanctuary,  finding  in  its  stronghold  a  temporary  respite 
from  the  dangers  that  threatened  them  without. 

By  degrees  a  sense  of  supreme  peace  and  well-being 
pervaded  him,  easing  his  troubles;  he  put  the  lantern 
down  and  looked  around.  How  he  loved  every  inch 
of  space— every  inch !  The  body  of  the  church  showed 
dim  and  shadowy  in  the  feeble  light  that  barely  indi- 
cated the  place  to  his  glance,  yet  to  him  it  was  as  if  the 
full  glare  of  day  penetrated  everywhere.  He  saw 
everything.  The  brass  branches,  the  small  organ  loft, 
the  two  galleries,  one  for  the  white  folk,  the  other  for 
the  black,  the  silver  baptismal  basin  with  its  learned  in- 
scription and,  not  far  away,  the  "  Juffrouw's  Bench  " 
where,  for  three  short  years,  his  wife  had  sat — her  face 
showing  like  some  flower  amid  her  surroundings.  He 

285 


God's  Puppets 


shivered  from  head  to  foot  at  the  memory  and  clung  to 
the  rail  for  support ;  so  he  remained  for  some  moments 
half  crouching  there,  his  shadow  cast  forward  upon  the 
steps.  Suddenly,  in  moving,  his  attention  was  arrested 
by  that  dark  spot  flung  before  him.  He  looked  at  it 
curiously,  wonderingly — looked  again.  Then  the  real- 
ization of  the  meaning  of  that  black,  distorted  shape 
smote  him  with  the  sharpness  of  a  knife.  Like  some 
ugly  stain  his  presence  lay  upon  the  pulpit  stairs ! 

He  sank  down,  covering  his  face  with  his  hands.  The 
candle's  little  beam  on  the  instant  became  an  accusing 
finger  to  point  out  the  truth  which  he  had  disregarded 
for  so  long  a  time.  Sunday  after  Sunday,  year  after 
year,  he  had  stood  facing  his  people  stimulating  them 
to  the  confession  of  sin  and  to  the  desire  for  grace  and 
pardon,  and  all  the  while  he  had  carried  that  vile  weight 
of  hypocrisy  in  his  own  breast.  He  had  stifled  the  voice 
of  his  conscience  with  the  thought  that,  in  acting  this 
lie,  he  was  trying  to  shield  others.  But  was  that  the 
only  reason?  Had  he  not  been  influenced  by  his  own 
pride  of  name,  his  love  for  the  church  office  and  his 
dread  of  the  laughter  of  men  ?  Had  he  not  found  for- 
getfulness  in  his  books,  losing  himself  so  far  in  his 
studies  that  the  little  affairs  of  each  succeeding  day 
were  unheeded,  and  the  past  lay  unstirred  almost  as  if 
it  had  never  been  ? 

He  scourged  himself  bitterly  with  these  questions, 
realizing,  now  when  it  was  too  late,  that  he  might  have 
reserved  the  right  of  reticence  in  his  trouble  and  no 
one  would  have  gainsaid  him.  But  to  do  that  other 
thing,  to  give  out  false  evidence,  to  continue  in  his  high 
position  accepting  the  sympathy — the  love,  and  the 

286 


An  Unwritten  Message 

trust — of  his  people — what  did  such  conduct  stamp 
him  ?  Jan's  words,  uttered  in  the  heat  of  anger,  came 
into  his  mind  with  the  solemnity  of  a  final  judgment  in 
their  syllables. 

"  Unfit— unworthy." 

On  the  instant  it  seemed  to  him  that  the  whole  church 
throbbed  with  the  stir  of  life — there  was  a  sense  of  the 
human  presence  everywhere.  Pews  and  galleries  were 
crowded  to  the  uttermost  and  a  vast  concourse  of  peo- 
ple pressed  about  the  doors  and  thronged  the  aisles. 
The  silence  was  broken  by  the  tread  of  many  feet  ad- 
vancing to  the  pulpit,  as  to  some  shrine,  pausing  there, 
then  turning  and  going  dejectedly  away.  There  was 
no  cessation  in  the  pilgrimage;  the  steps  were  always 
coming — coming.  He  slipped  his  hands  from  his  eyes 
to  his  ears  to  shut  out  the  terrible  sounds  and,  on  a 
sudden,  the  place  swarmed  with  faces.  In  the  remotest 
corner  of  the  building  he  could  see  their  gleam.  The 
faces  of  the  people  who  gathered  within  these  walls  on 
a  Sunday  to  listen  to  his  teaching;  the  faces  of  other 
parishioners,  whom  he  had  known  once  and  had  not 
looked  upon  for  years;  the  faces  again  of  those  other 
worshippers,  whom  he  had  never  seen,  but  who  had 
brought  their  sorrows  and  their  joys  into  this  holy  spot. 
Turn  which  way  he  would  they  confronted  him  re- 
proachfully— accusingly — and  nearer,  so  close  that  he 
could  reach  them  with  his  hand,  though  they  shrank 
back  at  its  touch,  were  those  predecessors  of  his  who 
had  spoken  the  word  of  the  Lord  from  the  desk  above. 
Their  glances  seared  his  soul. 

"  Unfit— unworthy !  " 

He  stumbled  to  his  feet  and  moved  tremblingly  from 
287 


God's  Puppets 


the  pulpit,  keeping  his  eyes  averted  lest  they  should 
behold  again  what  had  terrified  him  earlier — what  he 
could  never  forget.  Silently,  as  he  had  come,  but  with- 
out another  glance  at  the  familiar  objects,  he  made  his 
way  out  into  the  night  and  back  to  the  parsonage.  The 
window  was  open,  as  he  had  left  it,  and  he  paused  on 
the  sill  a  moment  to  rest,  then  he  entered  the  dark, 
silent  room  with  a  deep  sigh  of  relief.  He  had  come 
home.  The  church,  which  through  the  years  had  been 
a  place  of  refuge  and  of  divinest  comfort  to  him,  had 
suddenly  become  void  of  all  peace  because  of  his  wrong- 
doing, but  this  other  asylum  did  not  fail  him.  Here 
he  had  committed  no  desecration.  The  walls  had  wit- 
nessed his  misery,  his  fears,  his  doubts,  and  he  crept 
back  to  their  shelter  as  a  tired  child  creeps  into  loving 
arms,  with  no  question  of  his  worthiness,  or  unworthi- 
ness,  to  their  clasp,  satisfied  only  to  know  that  he  has 
reached  home. 

The  domine  put  the  lantern  on  the  table  and  sank 
wearily  into  his  chair,  making  no  effort  to  get  further 
light.  He  was  very  tired.  He  sat,  shielding  his  eyes 
for  some  minutes  with  one  hand  as  if  even  the  meagre 
rays  from  the  almost  burned  out  candle  were  too  brill- 
iant for  him  to  endure.  Presently  he  leaned  forward 
a  trifle  to  rest  his  elbow  on  the  table  and  a  quick  sound 
of  wood  striking  on  wood  followed  the  action.  Too 
fatigued  to  feel  any  curiosity  he  settled  himself  into  a 
more  comfortable  position,  extending  his  arm  further 
and  again  there  came  that  dissonant  clatter.  He 
looked  around  in  some  bewilderment.  The  place  where 
he  had  rested  his  arm  was  partly  occupied  by  a  clumsily 
tied  bundle  through  the  wrapping  of  which  the  end  of 

288 


An   Unwritten  Message 

a  stick  protruded.  It  was  that  which  had  jarred  against 
the  surface  of  the  table.  He  drew  the  lantern  nearer 
and  inspected  the  package  carefully.  The  paper  bore 
the  superscription  "  Domine  Ryerssen  "  in  great  letters. 

There  was  no  mistake.  Someone,  during  his  ab- 
sence, had  probably  left  the  bundle  with  Heilke  and 
she  had  brought  it  into  the  study,  placing  it  where  she 
knew  he  would  find  it  on  his  return.  Was  there  a 
message  ?  What  could  it  mean  ?  He  moved  the  parcel 
aside,  but  no  note  met  his  eye,  no  scrap  of  writing  even, 
except  his  name  in  that  big,  unfamiliar  hand.  The 
message  might  be  within,  he  told  himself  making  no 
effort  to  seek  it,  or  Heilke  might  be  able  to  give  some 
information  concerning  the  bearer.  Longing  for 
speech  with  someone  of  his  kind,  he  went  over  to  the 
door  to  seek  her.  But,  as  he  turned  the  knob,  he  discov- 
ered that  the  door  would  not  open,  it  was  locked  from 
vithin — the  key  in  its  place  where  he  had  turned  it  some 
hours  before. 

He  retraced  his  steps  to  the  table,  confused  a  trifle 
In  the  face  of  this  little  mystery.  Whoever  had  left  the 
parcel  had  come  in  through  the  window,  relying  upon 
the  darkness  of  the  night  to  conceal  his  identity.  That 
much  was  plain.  But  why?  Suddenly  a  smile  trem- 
bled about  the  old  man's  lips,  though  his  eyes  grew 
misty.  In  a  moment  everything  was  clear  to  him.  The 
package  was  a  surprise — a  gift — from  his  people,  that 
was  it,  from  his  people  to  him  and  he — undeserving. 
His  hands  trembled  excitedly  as  he  tried  to  open  it. 
He  undeserving,  but  they  loved  him !  Why  had  he  not 
trusted  that  love  earlier  ?  The  knot  loosened  under  his 
shaking  endeavors,  the  two  ends  of  the  string  slip- 

289 


God's  Puppets 


ping  apart;  then  the  paper  crackled  open  beneath  his 
touch. 

With  the  expectancy  of  a  little  child  in  his  attitude 
and  softening  the  haggard  lines  of  his  countenance,  he 
leaned  down  and  peered  at  the  contents  of  the  bundle. 
A  stout  club,  a  pair  of  old  shoes,  a  crust  of  bread  and  a 
silver  coin.  He  rubbed  his  eyes,  as  if  doubting  their 
testimony,  and  peered  closer,  touching  the  queer  med- 
ley curiously  with  lingering  fingers.  Then  he  drew  the 
lantern  nearer  and  let  its  faint  light  fall  upon  the  ob- 
jects one  by  one.  What  did  they  mean  ?  What  could 
they  mean?  Gradually  he  became  aware  that  each 
article  before  him  held  some  symbolic  import  which,  if 
unravelled,  would  furnish  the  key  to  the  whole  matter, 
and  on  the  moment  there  flashed  through  his  mind  in- 
stances from  his  reading  and  from  common  hearsay  of 
certain  emblematic  communications  sent  to  individuals, 
in  time  of  trouble  to  warn,  or  threaten,  the  purport  hid- 
den in  just  such  trivial  details  as  now  confronted  him. 
He  sat  half  stunned,  groping  vainly  for  some  inter- 
pretation to  the  puzzle  and  feeling  at  heart,  with  a 
strange,  sickening  fear  which  amounted  to  conviction, 
that  no  loving  thought  had  framed  this  message,  and 
no  loving  hand  had  placed  it  there. 

"  Money,  bread,"  he  went  over  the  little  inventory 
slowly,  checking  off  each  object  on  his  fingers,  "  pro- 
visions for  a  journey  surely,  shoes  to  wear  on  the  road 
and  stick  to  support  one's  steps,  or — or " 

He  broke  off  with  a  strangling  sound  in  his  throat ; 
he  could  not  put  into  words  the  thought  that  burned 
within  him.  There  were  other  uses  for  the  stick — it 
was  to  drive  him  hence — to  push  him  away!  These 

290 


An  Unwritten  Message 

things  were  means  for  his  departure  from  the  church 
he  had  served  so  long — they  indicated  that  he  must  be- 
take himself  to  other  fields.  The  message  was  clear  at 
last. 

He  fell  back  in  his  chair  staring  wildly  into  the  dark- 
ness, for  the  candle  in  the  lantern  had  burned  itself  out. 
He  was  thrilling  from  head  to  foot  with  the  degrada- 
tion put  upon  him.  From  his  people  to  him  and  he — 
undeserving 

"  No,  no,  no,"  he  cried,  "  deserving  of  it  all,  God 
knows,  deserving  of  it  all." 


291 


XXV 

AT  THE  CHURCH  DOOR 

Heilke  glanced  sharply  at  her  companion  as  they  took 
their  way  churchwards.  The  girl  had  grown  a  trifle 
thinner  but,  aside  from  that,  her  beauty  was  more  tri- 
umphant than  it  had  ever  been  for  it  had  gained  ma- 
terially in  expression  during  the  past  weeks.  Her 
mouth  curved  happily  and  the  color  rioted  in  her 
cheeks  with  the  intensity  of  her  emotions;  the  joy  of 
the  previous  day  still  lingered  in  her  face — less  ex- 
uberant perhaps,  but  equally  as  confident.  The  watch- 
ful woman,  who,  only  a  short  time  before,  had  bewailed 
the  alteration  in  Annetje's  appearance,  felt  secretly  re- 
sentful at  this  sudden  change  which  was  attributable 
to  no  visible  cause  that  she  could  discover.  It  angered 
her  to  note  the  unreasoning  exhilaration  that  found 
vent  in  a  ringing  laugh  at  so  slight  a  thing  as  a  bird's 
flight,  and  the  little  soft  hum  the  girl  kept  up,  though 
it  was  one  of  Datheen's  hymns,  irritated  her  beyond 
expression. 

"  Your  father's  got  to  have  some  new  neck-bands," 
she  broke  out  shortly.  "  Will  you  set  about  making 
them  to-morrow  ?  " 

There  was  no  answer  for  the  moment. 

"  Did  you  hear  Annetje  ?  "  she  demanded  sharply. 
"  I  can't  tell  what's  come  over  you,  one  would  think 
you  were  going  to  some  waffle-frolic  instead  of  to 

292 


At  the  Church  Door 

church,  you've  been  smiling  ever  since  we  started  and 
stepping  out  as  if  you  were  keeping  time  to  music.  I 
don't  hold  with  sour  looks  on  Sunday,  goodness  knows ! 
but  such  conduct  as  yours  is  unseemly — and  you  a  min- 
ister's daughter,  besides." 

Annetje  started  guiltily  as  if  she  had  been  detected 
in  some  wrong-doing. 

"  It's  such  a  beautiful  world,"  she  cried  with  a  little 
gasp,  "  I  can't  help  being  glad  to  be  alive  in  it.  Every- 
thing seems  so  happy  to-day,  birds,  flowers — every- 
thing. Don't  spoil  it  all  with  a  long  face,  Heilke." 

"  Your  father's  neck-bands — that  was  what  I  was 
saying.  Did  you  happen  to  notice  the  one  he  had  on 
this  morning?  " 

"  No — yes — no,  I  think  not." 

She  had  not  noticed  anything  about  him,  though  she 
had  stood  at  the  door  for  some  minutes  after  his  de- 
parture watching  him,  as  he  passed  along  the  sun- 
checkered  way.  But  her  happy,  indifferent  eyes  had  not 
been  keen  to  note  anything  amiss  in  either  his  dress,  or 
his  face,  so  busy  were  her  thoughts  elsewhere. 

"  Well  then,  it  was  not  fit  to  be  seen.  I  hope  Me- 
vrouw  de  Hooge  won't  perceive  it,  that's  all !  A  thrifty 
daughter  makes  a  thrifty  wife  as  the  whole  world 
knows." 

The  flush  deepened  in  Annetje's  cheeks. 

"  Mevrouw  de  Hooge !  "  she  cried  contemptuously, 
then  she  repressed  her  anger.  "  I'll  begin  the  bands  to- 
morrow," she  finished  humbly  enough. 

It  would  be  pleasant  work  to  take  into  the  garden  and 
set  the  little  stitches  while  she  waited.  It  wouldn't  be 
for  long.  The  shade  on  the  dial  would  mark  three 

293 


God's  Puppets 


o'clock  when  he  would  come — three — or  the  half  hour 
past,  not  later.  He  had  found  the  letter  Friday,  she 
had  been  right  in  thinking  he  had  called  to  her  that  day 
— Saturday  there  had  been  engagements  to  prevent  his 
coming  and  Sunday  he  knew  she  had  the  two  services 
at  her  church,  so  'twas  a  day  dropped  out  of  their  calen- 
dar as  he  had  said,  but  Monday — he  would  surely  come 
on  Monday!  No  wonder  then  that  it  was  a  difficult 
matter  to  walk  sedately  with  such  a  thought  beating  in 
one's  breast.  The  same  sky  that  smiled  down  upon 
her,  smiled  on  him  taking  his  way  to  Trinity ;  the  little 
breeze  that  touched  her  cheeks,  fanned  his  likewise; 
and  the  bird,  flying  westward,  might  sing  to  his  under- 
standing ears :  "I  come  from  Garden  Street!"  She 
laughed  aloud. 

"  There  you  go  again— giggle,  giggle,  giggle !  The 
whole  morning  long!  And  singing  before  breakfast, 
too,  I  heard  you  at  it.  Well,  then,  that  bodes  tears — 
when  will  you  ever  learn  ?  Tears  before  the  day  is  out 
— you  mark  my  words.  Is  that  the  last  bell?  Come, 
come,  don't  dawdle  so.  There  goes  Juffrouw  Bickers 
hurrying  along  with  her  little,  mincing  steps — she's  al- 
ways late — she'll  be  late,  I  warrant  you,  even  on  Judg- 
ment day,  only  the  Lord  won't  listen  to  her  excuses  that 
the  clock  was  slow,  or  she'd  mislaid  her  cap — not  He !  " 

Annetje  lagged  behind.  Earth  and  sky  were  so  fair 
it  seemed  a  pity  to  exchange  their  loveliness  for  the 
walls  of  a  church.  One  was  so  much  nearer  God, 
somehow,  in  the  open  under  His  blue  heavens,  than  in 
a  man-reared  temple,  under  the  critical,  carping  glances 
of  fellow-worshippers ! 

"  It's  early  yet,"  she  said  wistfully,  "  see  how  many 
294 


At  the  Church  Door 

of  the   folks   are   still   in  the   street.     Let's   wait  a 
little." 

"  There's  something  a-foot,"  Heilke  ejaculated 
shrilly,  stepping  along  more  briskly.  "  Now  what's  to 
do  at  the  church,  I  wonder,  that  the  folks  stand  gaping 
about  when  the  bidding-bell's  ceased  ringing?  Look 
at  Vrouw  Pieterse  and  Vrouw  Blauvelt  gabbling  away 
for  dear  life.  Dear !  dear !  the  tongues  those  women 
have — as  long  as  my  arm — and  swung  in  the  middle 
as  all  who  know  them  can  testify.  And  scandal ! 
When  those  two  get  together  there's  suffering  for  some 
one;  they're  like  crows  lighted  upon  carrion — oh! 
they'll  pick  it  bare,  skin  and  bones,  I  promise  you. 
Make  haste." 

Instead  of  heeding  this  injunction  Annetje  came  to 
a  sudden  standstill. 

"  Wait,"  she  implored,  "  let  the  others  pass  in  first. 
It's  something  more  about  Miss  Crewe,  I  am  sure,  and 
they  are  angry  with  me.  I  can't  bear  to  meet  their 
glances.  I  will  not  go  in  now." 

"  Hoity  toity !  Something  more  about  Miss  Crewe, 
eh?  Haven't  we  got  through  with  that  hussy  yet? 
Now  you  see  what  harm  has  been  caused  by  yours — 
and  your  father's — foolishness,  setting  the  house  of 
God  by  the  ears  in  this  fashion.  Well,  then,  this  is 
your  punishment.  You  have  brought  it  all  on  yourself 
and  you  can't  escape  it.  A  wrong  done  is  like  a  walnut- 
juice  stain — it  just  bides  and  bides — water  won't  wash 
it  out  and  sun  won't  fade  it  much — the  stuff  carries  that 
spot  to  the  end.  Come  you  at  once." 

As  Heilke  finished  speaking,  she  put  her  hand  au- 
thoritatively on  the  girl's  arm  and  pushed  her  slightly 
in  the  direction  of  the  church. 

295 


God's  Puppets 


"  Don't,"  Annetje  cried  below  her  breath.  "  Don't 
shame  me  like  this  before  all  these  people.  I'm  not  a 
child  to  be  dragged  along,  I  am  a  woman.  Take  your 
hand  away,  I  tell  you.  I  have  done  nothing  wrong." 

Heilke  cast  a  swift  glance  at  the  face  near  her  and 
released  her  hold  instantly.  The  intrepidity  of  her 
companion's  bearing  filled  her  with  a  kind  of  awe.  She 
did  not  recognize  any  similarity  between  the  fearless 
creature  and  the  little,  pliable  girl  she  had  watched 
over  and  guarded  since  babyhood.  This  was  a  dif- 
ferent Annetje,  one  made  strong  not  only  by  her  sense 
of  right,  but  by  the  thought  that  the  persecution  she 
was  about  to  undergo  was  laid  upon  her  in  consequence 
of  her  endeavors  to  serve  Bellenden.  The  idea  steeled 
her  nerves.  She  walked  firmly,  almost  buoyantly,  for- 
ward, the  flush  deepened  to  a  vivid  red  upon  her  cheeks, 
her  eyes  shining,  her  mouth  kept  from  trembling  by  the 
pressure  of  her  teeth  along  the  scarlet  line  of  her  lip. 

"  How  that  deep  blue  does  set  off  her  skin,"  Heilke 
muttered  to  herself,  "  milk  and  roses,  milk  and  roses, 
I  never  saw  its  like.  Say  what  they  will,  there  isn't 
one  on  this  island  that  can  hold  a  candle  to  her  for 
looks." 

The  group,  gathered  about  the  centre  door,  was  made 
up  of  about  twenty  persons,  men  and  women — though 
the  latter  outnumbered  the  former.  Some  of  these  had 
early  noticed  the  appearance  of  Heilke  and  Annetje, 
and  the  fact  was  speedily  communicated  to  their  com- 
panions, so  that  as  the  two  made  their  way  nearer,  every 
eye  was  turned  upon  them.  For  the  most  part  the 
glances  were  distinctly  hostile. 

"  We  can  go  in  by  the  side  door,"  Heilke  murmured 
296 


At  the  Church  Door 

in  sudden  relief,  her  courage  deserting  her  rapidly  as 
the  crucial  moment  dawned.  "  Thank  God,  it's  not  be- 
set by  venomous  toads." 

"  We  never  use  that  door,"  Annetje  returned  coldly, 
though  her  voice  trembled,  then  it  softened  a  little, 
"  but  if  it  will  be  easier  for  you,  Heilke,  go — please  go 
that  way — and  let  me  keep  on  by  myself." 

The  old  woman  gulped  down  something  in  her  throat 
and  set  her  lips  firmly. 

"  We'll  go  in  together,  child.  You  can't  learn  an  old 
dog  new  tricks,  and  I'd  feel  like  asking  the  Lord's  par- 
don if  I  sneaked  in  at  the  side,  because  I  was  afraid  to 
pass  a  few  gaping  fools." 

Annetje's  mouth  quivered  into  a  little  smile  of  thanks 
and  she  moved  on  steadily,  Heilke  pressing  close  at  her 
elbow.  The  people,  at  their  approach,  fell  back  a  trifle 
on  either  side,  leaving  an  open  space  between  their  lines 
up  which  the  new-comers  must  pass  to  the  church.  Not 
a  smile  of  greeting  met  them  anywhere ;  the  faces  An- 
netje swept  with  her  swift  regard  were  cold  and  im- 
movable as  though  made  of  stone,  only  the  eyes,  look- 
ing back  into  hers,  seemed  to  be  alive  and  full  of  a 
contempt  that  burned  to  her  soul;  her  little,  gentle 
salutations  fell  upon  deaf  ears,  eliciting  no  response. 

Short  though  the  passage  was  to  the  entrance  it  was 
interminable  to  her  fancy,  stretching  on  indefinitely  be- 
tween the  lines  of  the  silent  onlookers,  who  seemed  like 
the  sands  of  the  sea  for  numbers.  At  the  end — how 
far  away! — rose  the  few  steps  to  the  open  door  and 
beyond  lay  the  cool  depths  of  the  church,  where  the 
majority  of  the  congregation  had  already  assembled 
unconscious  of  what  was  taking  place  without.  De- 

297 


God's  Puppets 


spite  the  brilliant  rays  of  the  July  sun  beating  down 
upon  her  Annetje  shivered  at  the  thought  of  the  fresh 
glances  of  disapproval  she  must  encounter  as  she  passed 
up  to  the  Juffrouw's  Bench.  She  faltered  a  moment, 
then  kept  on  without  wavering,  her  eyes  fixed  resolutely 
before  her.  A  group  of  young  men  assembled  on  the 
top  step  gazed  down  at  her  with  a  freedom  in  their 
glances  she  had  never  before  encountered. 

"  Hoity  toity,  Vrouw  Pieterse,"  Heilke  growled  in 
great  wrath,  "  there's  no  call  for  you  to  draw  your 
dirty  petticoats  aside  when  your  domine's  daughter 
goes  by.  Think  shame  to  yourself,  dame,  and  bear  a 
humble  mind.  If  you've  forgot  that  Pinkster  week  of 
twenty  years  syne,  it's  more  than  the  rest  of  us  have. 
How  dare  you  act  as  though  you  thought  you'd  be  be- 
fouled in  the  face  of  this  whiteness  ?  " 

The  woman  retorted  with  a  sharp  laugh,  using  a 
word  that  whipped  the  color  from  Annetje's  cheeks; 
she  stopped  aghast,  breathing  like  one  in  great  pain. 

"  You  can't  mean  me  ?  "  she  cried  brokenly. 

"  Go  you  on,"  Heilke  commanded.  "  This  is  not  for 
your  ears.  I'll  give  her  her  dues." 

She  turned  with  the  spring  of  a  tigress  upon  the 
calumniator  who,  foreseeing  the  attack,  warded  it  off 
with  considerable  dexterity.  The  attention  of  the  on- 
lookers, diverted  for  the  moment  by  the  altercation, 
swang  back  almost  immediately  to  the  girl  herself  as 
she  crept  forward  pale  and  trembling.  The  music  of 
the  organ  swelled  out  through  windows  and  doors, 
deep  and  calm,  to  meet  her  and  silenced  her  fright  with 
its  message  of  peace.  It  deadened  the  sounds  of 
Vrouw  Pieterse's  shrill  voice  as  she  took  her  revenge 

298 


At  the  Church  Door 

upon  Heilke  in  taunts  and  jeers,  and  it  softened  the 
grief-stricken  cries  of  the  old  housekeeper,  each  one 
falling  slowly  and  brokenly  upon  the  air  like  the  signals 
of  distress  from  a  ship  on  the  rocks. 

Annetje  reached  the  steps  and  began  their  ascent. 
The  ordeal  was  almost  at  an  end  and  within  lay  quiet. 
Through  the  hours  of  the  service  she  could  regain  some 
measure  of  calm  and  at  its  close  she  could  creep  home 
into  hiding.  There  was  only  a  short  way  further  to 
travel !  Then,  suddenly,  a  low  sound  near  her  stung 
her  into  instant  attention;  she  glanced  aside  to  where 
Bertha  Van  der  Griest  stood  with  parted  lips  as  if  she 
had  just  spoken.  But  no  other  word  was  uttered  only, 
as  Annetje  looked,  the  girl  raised  her  hand  and  pointed 
with  unmistakable  significance  before  her.  Annetje's 
wondering  eyes  followed  the  line  of  the  plump,  rounded 
crm,  from  which  the  Psalm-book  swung  by  its  silver 
chain,  the  sun  smiting  the  links  with  dazzling  radiance, 
followed  the  curve  of  the  wrist,  the  back  of  the  dimpled 
hand  to  the  upraised  forefinger  pointing — pointing 
steadily —  At  what? 

She  moved  nearer,  like  one  under  the  impulse  of  a 
stronger  will,  driven  forward  resistlessly.  Through 
the  open  door  came  the  voices  singing : 

"  '  Ik  roep  tot  U,  O  eenwtg  Wezen 

Myn  Rot ss teen,  novit  naar  eisch  volpreezen '  " 

She  did  not  heed  the  appeal  in  the  words,  she  did  not 
heed  the  holy  peace  of  the  sanctuary  beckoning  to  her. 
Her  eyes  were  held  by  the  bit  of  paper  nailed  at  the 
side  of  the  entrance  just  above  Jonkheer  Wendell's 
head.  He  moved  away  smiling  impertinently  into  her 

299 


God's  Puppets 


face,  but  she  did  not  even  see  him.  She  only  saw  the 
paper  with  its  little,  staggering  characters  upon  which 
the  sun  beat  so  pitilessly.  She  steadied  herself  to  keep 
from  falling.  Her  letter  to  him — her  letter  to  him — 
scorned  in  this  fashion;  the  little,  loving  contents  ex- 
posed to  the  jeers  and  taunts  of  men !  It  couldn't  be ! 
It  was  some  church  notice — some  church  notice — yet 
there  her  name  stood  out  boldly,  confronting  her. 
What  did  it  mean?  All  at  once  she  knew.  He 
wouldn't  be  in  the  garden  on  the  morrow,  he  would 
never  come —  He  was  angry — angry — angry —  This 
thought  was  the  first  to  pierce  her  dulled  brain,  then 
came  another,  and  another,  swiftly — bitterly — to  ac- 
count for  the  scornful  glances  on  every  side  and  the 
horror  of  Vrouw  Pieterse's  condemning  word. 

She  turned  from  the  open  door — she  could  not  enter 
— and  looked  down  at  the  people  watching  her.  Sud- 
denly she  stretched  out  her  hands  with  a  little,  eager 
cry  and  stepped  hurriedly  to  the  pavement. 

"  Adrian,"  she  called  softly,  seeing  only  him  and  back 
of  him  her  childhood,  "  Adrian." 

She  smiled  bravely,  though  her  face  was  very  pitiful 
to  see. 

He  let  her  come  close  to  him  and  put  her  hand  on 
his  sleeve  and  look  into  his  eyes,  challenging  his 
friendship — the  friendship  of  so  many  years — then  he 
dragged  his  coat  from  her  fingers  and  thrust  her  bru- 
tally aside. 

"  Discarded  by  one  lover,  my  pretty  light  o'  love,  you 
would  comfort  yourself  with  another,"  he  sneered  with 
a  laugh  that  drove  the  color  into  her  cheeks,  though 
it  receded  the  next  instant  leaving  her  ghastly  white. 

300 


At  the  Church  Door 

"  But  know,  you  must  seek  him  elsewhere  than  in 
Adrian  de  Hooge." 

She  fell  back  in  consternation  and  stared  at  him,  try- 
ing to  speak,  but  her  pallid,  shaking  lips  refused  to 
utter  a  word,  nor  could  her  mind  frame  any  denial  to 
his  taunt.  For  a  minute  her  glance,  like  that  of  some 
wounded  animal,  swept  the  faces  around  her  for  some 
sign  of  pity,  then  she  moved  off  very  slowly. 

"  Ay,  get  you  gone,"  Heilke  cried  in  choking  sylla- 
bles, "  get  you  back  to  the  home  you've  blackened,  and 
God  forgive  you,  Annetje  Ryerssen." 


301 


XXVI 

WITHIN  THE  CHURCH 

At  the  end  of  the  singing  the  people  settled  into  their 
places,  the  little  bustle,  attendant  upon  the  action,  in- 
creased by  the  arrival  of  the  participants  in  Annetje's 
humiliation.  Their  coming  caused  no  small  measure 
of  excitement  among  the  more  punctual  worshippers 
who  had  entered  by  the  other  doors,  or  who,  passing 
through  the  central  entrance,  had  not  noticed  the  letter 
at  its  side.  Ordinarily  a  few  belated  comers  might 
creep  in  almost  unnoticed,  save  by  the  immediate  few 
whom  they  inconvenienced,  and  who  meted  out  angry 
glances  to  the  offenders;  but  that  so  many  should  be 
late,  and  should  take  no  pains  to  conceal  the  fact  as 
they  clattered  to  their  seats,  was  enough  to  overthrow 
the  established  precedents  of  the  church. 

Curiosity  and  consternation  struggled  for  the  ascen- 
dency, the  former  swinging  highest  by  virtue  of  its  su- 
premacy in  every  breast.  No  one  was  too  blind  to  read 
the  elation  in  Bertha  Van  der  Griest's  face,  that  showed 
as  plainly  through  the  set  righteousness  of  her  features, 
as  sunlight  through  an  uncurtained  window;  nor  was 
there  any  chance  of  mistaking  the  triumph  and  satis- 
faction in  Adrian  de  Hooge's  whole  bearing.  His 
mother,  making  room  for  him  on  the  Blue  Bench,  felt 
her  pulses  tingle  and  her  blood  leap  faster  with  the  sense 
of  the  dominant  power  he  brought  with  him.  Vrouw 

302 


Within  the   Church 

Pieterse  flaunted  her  petticoats  as  never  before,  the  air 
of  piety  clinging  to  her  like  its  perfume  to  a  flower — 
the  piety  of  that  kind  of  converted  sinner  who  is  quick 
to  perceive  another's  misstep,  and  quickest  of  all  to  be 
the  first  to  hurl  a  stone  at  the  offender.  It  needed  no 
especial  perspicuity  to  interpret  her  attitude,  though  its 
significance,  for  the  time  being,  was  not  discoverable. 

But  Heilke  herself  occasioned  the  greatest  bewilder- 
ment as  she  made  her  way  to  the  Juffrouw's  Bench, 
which  she  always  occupied  with  her  charge.  The 
alteration  in  her  usually  self-reliant  demeanor  was 
very  perceptible,  the  traces  of  tears  and  the  disorder  of 
her  dress  being  the  least  factors  in  the  change  in  her 
appearance.  She  had  struggled  momentarily  with  the 
desire  to  follow  Annetje  for,  despite  her  own  wrath, 
she  was  touched  by  the  heartbroken  aspect  of  the  young 
face,  but  throughout  a  long  life  nothing  had  ever  kept 
her  away  from  the  house  of  God  and  habit  is  a  stronger 
master  oftentimes  than  love.  Recognizing  its  domin- 
ion, therefore,  she  had  entered  the  sanctuary  with  the 
others,  bowed  under  the  keenest  trouble  she  had  ever 
been  called  upon  to  bear ;  Annetje  was  dearer  than  her 
own  flesh  and  blood  and  the  revelation  of  the  girl's  in- 
fatuation for  the  English  officer,  and  his  treatment  of 
her  overtures,  darkened  the  whole  world  to  the  grief- 
stricken  woman. 

The  domine,  unconscious  of  the  commotion  going 
forward,  moved  slowly,  but  without  any  apparent  hes- 
itancy, to  the  high,  circular  pulpit  which  stood  in  the 
space  at  the  end  of  the  centre  aisle.  He  paused  at  the 
lowest  step  and  knelt  down,  holding  his  hat  before  his 
face,  while  he  offered  silently  a  short  prayer  for  a  bless- 

303 


God's  Puppets 


ing  on  his  coming  labors,  in  which  he  sought  the  aid 
of  the  Lord.  Such  that  voiceless  petition  meant  to  the 
onlookers.  It  was  an  established  custom  of  the  church, 
but  they  could  not  know  how  insistent  on  this  occa- 
sion— never  so  insistent  before — was  the  appeal  for 
strength  that  filled  their  pastor's  heart.  He  was  visibly 
altered  as  if  a  withering  breath  of  age  and  pain  had 
swept  over  him ;  his  step  was  slower,  his  face  more  hag- 
gard, yet  these  changes  were  unperceived  by  his  parish- 
ioners. Unfriendly  eyes  are  never  the  discerning  ones. 
The  small  figure  in  the  black  silk  gown,  with  the  large 
flowing  sleeves  which  gave  it  an  odd  batlike  resem- 
blance, was  too  familiar  an  object  to  awaken  any  par- 
ticular comment  in  their  breasts. 

He  ascended  the  narrow  stairs  to  the  sacred  desk,  his 
hand  clinging  to  the  curved  balustrade  the  better  to 
support  his  weakness.  The  platform  reached,  he  pre- 
pared to  open  the  Bible  but,  as  he  noted  the  stragglers 
moving  along  the  aisles,  he  waited  several  moments  for 
them  to  be  seated.  Then  the  quiet  that  followed  was 
broken  only  by  the  soft  fluttering  of  the  leaves  as  he 
sought  his  text.  He  raised  his  head  and  faced  them 
all. 

"  II.  Corinthians,  thirteenth  chapter,  eleventh  verse," 
his  voice,  husky  as  of  old,  held  a  certain  note  which, 
while  not  loud,  penetrated  to  the  uttermost  corner  of 
the  building.  "  Finally,  brethren,  farewell.  Be  perfect, 
be  of  good  comfort,  be  of  one  mind,  live  in  peace ;  and 
the  God  of  love  and  peace  shall  be  with  you.'  " 

He  repeated  the  words  slowly,  and  more  gently,  his 
tones  softening  into  a  tenderness  that  seemed  to  probe 
the  heart  of  each  listener,  making  the  matter  a  personal 

304 


Within  the  Church 

one  between  him  and  his  pastor,  then — as  was  the  cus- 
tom of  the  church — the  text  given,  he  exclaimed: 
"  Thus  far !  "  and  paused,  looking  almost  vacantly  be- 
fore him.  After  a  moment  he  seemed  to  recover  him- 
self and  shut  the  Bible  with  a  touch  that  trembled  in 
the  accomplishment  of  its  duty,  yet  carried  with  it  an 
air  of  irrevocability  which  admitted  no  wavering  of 
purpose. 

The  noise  of  the  closing  covers,  doubly  accentuated 
as  it  was  by  the  surrounding  stillness,  jarred  the  hear- 
ers into  instant  attention,  and  set  them  thrilling  with 
apprehension  as  they  sought  to  explain  to  themselves 
this  unusual  conduct  on  the  part  of  their  minister.  The 
abrupt  sound,  with  its  ungracious  cry  of  finality,  dis- 
pleased them  vaguely ;  they  tried  to  fathom  its  meaning. 

He  did  not  leave  them  long  in  suspense.  That  thud 
of  the  closed  book  nerved  him  to  action,  pricked  him 
as  if  it  were  some  goad.  He  leaned  toward  them,  his 
hands  pressed  tightly  one  above  the  other  on  the  edge 
of  the  desk. 

"  I  have  no  sermon  this  morning,"  he  said  very  slow- 
ly, "  I  had  prepared  one,  but  last  night  at  a  late  hour  I 
— I  determined  not  to  use  it.  There  seemed  to  me  good 
and  conclusive  reasons  why  I  should  not,  yet  I  knew 
you  would  assemble  here,  according  to  your  wont,  and 
I  resolved,  therefore,  to  speak  to  you  instead,  taking 
the  words  I  have  just  read  as  my  text  in  some  measure. 
They  are  words  of  farewell  sent,  as  you  all  know,  by 
Paul  to  that  church  of  God  in  Corinth.  Even  the  lit- 
tlest child  here  must  recognize  that  they  mean  good-by 
and  so  I  borrow  them  now,  in  my  need,  to  use  to  this 
church  of  God  in  this  new  world.  It  does  not  surprise 

305 


God's  Puppets 


you,  perhaps,  that  I  am  about  to  bid  you  farewell.  One 
could  not  indeed  do  otherwise  after  the  message  of  dis- 
missal that  you  saw  fit  to  send  me ;  though  possibly  an- 
other man  would  have  refrained  from  again  entering 
the  pulpit  which  had  been  so  closed  to  him." 

An  electrical  stir  ran  through  the  entire  building; 
something  like  a  murmur  of  consternation  and  protest 
seemed  to  leap  forth  on  every  side,  though  there  was 
no  word  spoken.  Dismissal?  Who  had  mentioned 
dismissal  ?  It  was  one  thing  to  wish  one's  pastor  away, 
and  another  to  cast  him  out.  Faces  full  of  wonder- 
ment were  turned  from  neighbor  to  neighbor.  The 
members  of  the  Consistory  glanced  guiltily  at  one  an- 
other. Had  the  domine  heard  of  that  letter  sent  to  the 
Classis?  How  had  he  heard?  They  would  not  act 
without  authority,  and  there  could  be  no  answer  to  their 
charges  for  months  to  come.  What  did  he  mean? 
The  unspoken  questions  passed  from  man  to  man  as 
distinctly  as  if  they  were  uttered  in  a  voice  of  thunder, 
meeting  no  solution. 

In  the  excitement  of  the  moment  vague  mutterings 
were  heard  but,  for  the  most  part,  the  people,  remem- 
bering that  it  was  contrary  to  precedent  to  speak  in 
church,  kept  themselves  well  in  check,  though  the 
amazement  everywhere  increased  in  volume  and  surged, 
like  a  wave,  to  the  pulpit  itself.  Domine  Ryerssen, 
glancing  around  with  eyes  made  clearer  and  keener  by 
sorrow,  recognized,  in  some  measure,  the  perplexity 
before  him.  A  little  thrill,  which  amounted  almost  to 
pleasure,  sent  a  touch  of  color  into  his  gray  face. 

"  Perhaps,"  he  said,  and  his  voice  trembled,  "  many 
of  you  are  unaware  of  the  message.  It  may  have  been 

306 


Within  the  Church 

the  work  of  just  a  little  handful  of  your  number  acting, 
I  am  very  sure,  from  what  seemed  to  them  their  Best 
convictions.  When  a  surgeon  uses  the  knife  to  lop  off 
some  dangerous  growth  he  knows  that  pain  will  follow 
close  upon  the  operation^  yet  he  does  not  stay  his  hand. 
He  is  seeking  health  for  the  whole  body,  and  the  pain 
is  surely  of  little  consequence  to  gain  that  end.  So  it 
seems  to  me  that,  in  the  minds  of  those  who  framed  the 
message,  there  was  the  thought  that  this  dear  body  of 
our  church  was  ailing  and  could  only  be  healed  and 
strengthened  by  measures  that,  in  seeming  cruel,  were 
really  kind.  They  acted  on  that  impulse,  as  firmly  and 
unfalteringly  as  the  surgeon  acts,  sorry  to  inflict  suf- 
fering but  recognizing  the  necessity  which  admitted  no 
other  course.  That  I  would  have  withdrawn  from  my 
office  at  a  word  is  beside  the  question,  yet  for  some 
reason  this  method  seemed  best  and  I  do  not  quarrel 
with  it.  I  am  not  here  to  blame,  or  to  condemn  any 
man,  save  the  one  I  know  best  of  all — myself. 

He  let  his  glance  wander  momentarily  to  the  little 
pew  directly  in  front  of  the  pulpit  which  Jan  Praa  oc- 
cupied. The  voorleezer  was  sitting  forward  on  the 
edge  of  the  seat,  his  chin  dropped,  his  eyes  fastened  on 
the  rod  swaying  in  his  quivering  hands,  on  which  it  was 
his  duty  to  affix  the  notices  and  pass  them  up  to  the 
minister  to  be  read  aloud.  He  did  not  meet  that  sad 
regard ;  he  alone,  of  all  the  people  in  the  church,  could 
not  look  upon  that  old,  shaken  face,  but  the  domine  did 
not  misconstrue  his  apparent  aloofness. 

"  I  have  not  been  unconscious  of  late,"  the  husky 
voice  continued,  "  that  the  attitude  I  was  forced  to  take 
has  occasioned  displeasure  among  you,  though  I  trust 

307 


God's  Puppets 


you  will  believe  that  it  has  been  a  sorrow  to  me  to  act 
apart  from  your  desires.  Let  that  pass.  I  told  the  Con- 
sistory that  it  was  my  dearest  wish  to  labor  in  this 
vineyard  till  the  close  of  day — it  was  something  that, 
through  all  my  unworthiness,  I  longed  for  as  the  most 
precious  boon  life  could  give  me.  Despite  that  un- 
worthiness I  clung  to  it — clung  to  it — "  he  paused, 
choking  a  little.  "  And  then  last  night,  even  before  I 
received  your  message  I  knew  the  end  had  come." 

He  stopped  speaking  and  looked  around  again  at  the 
people  near  him;  at  that  window  on  the  side  with  its 
legend  clear  in  the  light  of  day,  letter  for  letter,  like 
the  writing  on  the  wall — "  Vestigia  nulla  retrorsum  " 
— but  his  glance  did  not  seek  out  the  Juffrouw's  Bench. 
He  could  not  force  himself  to  see,  even  for  a  moment, 
the  lifted  face  of  his  child  with  its  likeness  to  that  other 
flower-like  face. 

"  Last  night,  perplexed,  and  sorely  troubled,  I  came 
hither,"  he  said  presently,  with  no  faltering  in  his  voice, 
"  very  often  have  I  come  here  at  odd  hours  for  com- 
fort— it  has  been  like  a  home  to  me.  I  came  to  the  foot 
of  this  sacred  desk,  thinking  only  of  these  beloved  sur- 
roundings and  suddenly,  the  light  from  my  lantern  re- 
vealed my  shadow  on  the  pulpit  stairs.  I  am  not  afraid 
of  shadows — what  man  is  ? — yet  I  trembled  before  this 
one.  It  was  very  dark,  very  ugly,  and  it  lay  like  some 
great  stain  stretching  up — and  up — before  my  eyes. 
We  must  have  light  to  see  darkness  by  and  that  little, 
slanting  beam  showed  me  at  last  the  blackness  which  I 
had  hitherto  disregarded.  It  was  the  light  of  my  con- 
science. I  could  not  evade  it !  I  knew,  then,  that  it  was 
laid  upon  me  to  show  you  what  I  had  seen.  I  went 

308 


Within  the  Church 

back  to  my  home  and  found  those  symbols  there — the 
stick — the  bread — the  old  shoes — and  the  bit  of  money 
— and  I  read  their  meaning  aright.  I  must  go  forth — 
that  is  your  wish — away  from  you — from  this  place — 
go  forth." 

A  sound  of  protest  interrupted  him ;  something  like 
a  sob,  from  an  impressionable  woman,  made  itself  heard 
with  startling  distinctness.  He  turned  in  its  direction 
almost  fiercely. 

"  You  shall  not  pity  me.  I  will  not  have  it.  I  am  not 
worthy  to  receive  it.  Nor  shall  you  blame,  for  so  much 
as  a  moment,  the  persons  who  devised  that  message, 
cruel  and  insulting  though  it  seemed  to  me  at  first.  It 
was  my  punishment.  For  thirty-seven  years  I  have 
preached  in  this  house  and  I  have  met  with  love  and 
kindness  far  beyond  any  deserving  of  mine,  God  knows ! 
For  the  last  sixteen  of  those  years  I  have  nursed  a  black 
hypocrisy  in  my  own  soul  and  yet  during  that  time  I 
have  counselled  you,  and  rebuked  you  for  your  short- 
comings ;  I  have  been  the  mouthpiece  for  your  prayers 
in  which  confession  was  made  and  pardon  implored ;  I 
have  sought  to  lift  up  the  veil  that  hangs  before  each 
heart  to  search  its  corners,  and  I  have  kept  my  own 
closely  curtained.  That  is  why  I  am  undeserving  of 
your  sympathy  now. 

"  Is  there  a  word  of  extenuation,  do  you  ask  in  your 
tolerance  ?  Is  there  ever  any  extenuation  for  falsehood 
when  the  command  has  been  laid  upon  us  '  Speak  ye 
every  man  the  truth  to  his  neighbor  ?  '  You  know  the 
answer ;  I  know  the  answer.  Yet  believe  me,  in  my  per- 
plexity I  found  some  excuse  for  myself  for  a  time.  I 
saw  the  sin,  but  I  kept  it  in  my  life  while  I  told  myself, 

309 


God's  Puppets 


trying  to  justify  the  act,  that  it  was  done  for  another's 
sake.  That  was  insufficient  reason.  Either  a  thing  is 
good,  or  bad,  half-good,  half-bad,  will  not  stand."  He 
turned  his  face  from  the  Juffrouw's  Bench ;  now  that 
he  was  about  to  strike  and  wound  that  faithful  heart, 
he  must  keep  his  gaze  averted  from  its  woe. 

"  Many  of  you  doubtless  remember  my — my — wife. 
She  was  a  young  girl  of  great  beauty,  as  was  evident 
to  everyone  who  saw  her,  but  more  beautiful  than  her 
face  was  the  loveliness  of  her  soul ;  I  can  say  that  who 
had  some  glimpses  of  its  purity.  And,  moreover,  in 
her  tongue  was  the  law  of  kindness  and  her  ways  were 
ever  those  of  pleasantness,  and  peace.  She  was  with 
me  three  little  years ;  then  she  went  away — oh !  not  as 
you  have  always  thought — be  very  merciful  in  your 
judgment — not  by  the  way,  we  all  must  travel,  through 
the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death.  There  had  been — 
how  can  I  tell  you  ?— one  of  her  own  years  in  Father- 
land— no,  no,  you  must  not  blame  her !  She  was  very 
young,  and  I  was  more  than  treble  her  age;  she  only 
married  me  because  it  was  her  father's  dying  wish. 
There  had  never  been  between  us  that  love  which  God 
places  in  the  hearts  of  some  men  and  women  to  make  a 
heaven  of  this  life  for  them,  to  be  steadfast  and  pure 
through  sorrow,  shame  and  adversity  to  the  end — and 
beyond.  I  loved  her  like  that,  God  knows,  but  I  stood 
apart  from  her,  busy  with  my  books,  my  work — she 
was  very  lonely,  very  young,  and  she  loved  that  other 
even  as  I  loved  her.  He  came  to  this  country  to  seek 
her  and — they  went  away — together. 

"  Now  you  know  my  secret  and  my  sin.  The  essence 
of  lying  is  the  intention  to  deceive  and,  knowing  this, 

310 


Within  the  Church 

I  wilfully  deceived  you.  I  did  not  contradict  the  re- 
ports that  were  current  after  my  wife's  disappearance ; 
I  wished  you  to  believe  them.  It  was  a  time  of  great 
sickness  in  the  land,  as  you  may  recollect,  and  death 
was  reaping  his  grim  harvest  everywhere ;  that  my  wife 
should  be  among  the  number  did  not  seem  singular  to 
you,  knowing  how  many — old  and  young  alike — were 
taken.  I  let  you  think  so,  I — I — took  your  sympathy. 
I  wanted  to  save  her  from  your  scorn — to  keep  my 
child's  memory  of  her  mother  pure  and  beautiful.  It 
was  enough  sadness  for  her  to  miss,  throughout  her 
life,  a  mother's  care,  without  the  additional  burden  of 
knowing  that  that  mother  had  forsaken  her.  That  is 
what  I  told  myself.  I  see  now  it  was  done  chiefest  to 
save  my  own  pride.  I  could  not  bear  finger-sticking, 
laughing,  jeers  at  an  old  husband  tricked  and  deserted. 
I  let  you  believe  she  was  dead,  I — I — kept  still — even 
when  you  placed  that  tablet  there — I  would  not  trust 
your  love. 

"All  through  the  years  that  followed  I  heard  no  word 
of  her.  She  was  as  dead  to  me,  as  if  I  had  seen  her 
buried  yonder.  But  a  short  time  since,  there  came  to 
me  this  news:  she  died  two  years  ago  after  a  life  of 
holiness  and  charity,  spent  far  from  here  in  ministering 
to  the  sick  and  dying.  There  were  many,  at  the  last, 
to  call  her  blessed — thank  God  for  that!  She  loved 
much,  suffered  much,  and  surely  to  such  much  is  for- 
given." He  stopped  to  rest  for  a  moment  and  the  little 
silence  was  appalling  in  its  quietness ;  there  was  not  the 
least  sound  anywhere. 

"  I  have  not  told  you  my  story  in  order  to  palliate 
your  judgment  of  my  deception  toward  you/'  he  went 


God's  Puppets 


on,  his  voice  dragging  wearily.  "  As  I  have  said,  there 
is  no  justification  for  what  I  have  done — I  see  that  now. 
My  grief  might  have  remained  my  own,  without  being 
built  around  with  a  lie;  you  would  have  respected  it, 
and  sympathized  with  it  had  I  trusted  your  affection. 
I  chose  the  other  way,  preached  one  thing,  practised 
another,  cried  '  forgive  us  our  sins,'  condemned  yours, 
and  hugged  my  own  close.  There  was  no  peace  for  me 
anywhere ;  yet  all  the  while  I  knew  how  life  and  living 
may  be  made  good.  To  look  on  the  face  of  Truth,  to 
know  one's  self  a  man — to  love  what  belongs  to  man- 
hood— ay,  and  to  womanhood,  too,  honor,  nobility  of 
purpose,  strength,  purity — these  are  the  things  to  win 
for  us  the  '  well  done  '  at  the  end  of  the  course.  These 
things  comprise  the  love  of  God,  and  in  setting  them  at 
naught  God  is  set  at  naught  likewise.  Yet  knowing 
this,  to  His  judgment,  to  His  forgiveness,  to  His  mercy 
I  appeal." 

He  was  silent  a  long  minute  looking  before  him,  be- 
yond him,  with  eyes  that  perceived  nothing;  presently 
he  recovered  himself  and  glanced  down  at  the  upturned 
faces,  seeing  them  but  dimly  through  the  mist  that 
clouded  his  vision.  He  leant  toward  them  with  hands 
outstretched  in  a  gesture  of  renunciation,  the  wide 
sleeves  falling  away  and  revealing  his  sharply  attenu- 
ated wrists.  So  he  stood  for  a  moment,  his  face  grow- 
ing very  tender,  then  he  spoke  again :  "  '  Finally,  breth- 
ren farewell.  ...  Be  perfect,  be  of  good  comfort, 
be  of  one  mind,  live  in  peace ;  and  the  God  of  love  and 
peace  shall  be  with  you.'  " 

In  the  silence  that  followed,  he  turned  and  crept  un- 
steadily down  the  stairs ;  at  their  foot  Jan  Praa  met  him 

312 


Within  the  Church 

and  transferred  the  shaking  hand  from  the  rail  to  the 
curve  of  his  own  arm.  Something  like  a  smile  trem- 
bled about  the  domine's  mouth,  but  he  gave  no  other 
evidence  of  Jan's  presence.  The  two  men  went  for- 
ward slowly  in  that  great,  encompassing  hush  which 
seemed  to  hold  no  other  sense  of  life ;  suddenly  a  heavy 
footfall  sounded  near  them  and  Heilke  stood  close  at 
her  master's  side.  He  looked  at  her  in  wonderment  as 
she  caught  his  gown  between  her  fingers  and  pressed 
a  kiss  against  its  folds. 

"  We'll  go  home  now,"  she  murmured,  as  if  she  were 
speaking  to  a  little  child. 


313 


XXVII 

JAN  AS  KNIGHT 

The  day  wore  to  its  close,  as  all  days — be  they  happy 
or  sad — have  a  fashion  of  doing  since  Time,  although 
relentless  is  also  merciful,  and  night  settled  down. 
The  domine  was  in  his  study,  whither  he  had  retired 
directly  after  his  return  from  church.  There  had  been 
no  word  spoken  on  that  slow,  homeward  walk  in  the 
glare  of  the  summer  noon  strident  with  the  clamors 
of  myriad  insects ;  but  sympathy  and  love  have  a  thou- 
sand means  of  expression,  other  than  with  the  human 
voice,  and  the  old  man  was  not  unconscious  of  what  lay 
in  the  hearts  of  his  faithful  companions.  If  he  missed 
Annetje,  and  his  occasional  furtive  glances  showed  that 
he  was  seeking  someone,  he  said  nothing.  He  could 
make  allowances  for  her  suffering;  he  was  willing  to 
wait  until,  of  her  own  accord,  she  should  seek  him  out. 

Heilke  and  Jan,  whose  minds  were  usually  at  the 
antipodes  of  things,  agreed  in  this  instance  with  sur- 
prising alacrity  that  for  the  present,  at  least,  the  domine 
must  be  kept  in  ignorance  of  the  pain  and  humiliation 
which  had  overtaken  his  child.  It  was  enough  for  him 
to  think,  as  he  did,  that  she  was  bowed  down  by  the 
deception  which  he  had  practised,  without  being 
troubled  by  the  further  grief  that  had  entered  into  her 
life. 

"  Wait  a  bit,"  Jan  counselled,  "  wait  a  bit !  The 
314 


Jan  as  Knight 


stoutest  bow  will  break  with  too  much  straining,  I 
doubt  if  he  could  stand  up  under  this  fresh  sorrow." 

He  himself  was  almost  prostrated  by  it.  Heilke's 
distress  and  amazement  at  the  revelation  of  the  dom- 
ine's  secret  were  but  slight  when  compared  to  what 
Jan  felt  when  she  told  him  of  the  scene  enacted  without 
the  church.  He  would  not  believe  it ;  not  until  he  pos- 
sessed himself  of  the  despised  letter  and  read  and  re- 
read its  little,  pitiful  sentences  was  he  convinced.  For 
the  time  he  was  the  victim  of  a  dreadful  inertia  which 
rendered  him  unable  even  to  form  any  plans  of  ven- 
geance, thrilling  though  he  was  with  rage  against  Bel- 
lenden  and  the  longing  to  punish  him.  He  could  only 
think  of  Annetje — disprized,  cast  aside,  the  scorn  and 
laughter  of  the  neighborhood.  Through  the  long  af- 
ternoon he  sat  in  the  kitchen  nursing  these  thoughts. 
For  the  first  time  in  its  history  the  bell  of  the  Garden 
Street  church  was  mute ;  there  could  be  no  services  un- 
der the  existing  order  of  things  and  no  need,  therefore, 
for  the  voorleezer  to  stir  abroad. 

Heilke,  not  far  from  him,  clicked  her  needles  reso- 
lutely ;  she  could  not  sit  with  folded  hands  even  in  the 
fairness  of  her  surroundings  which  bespoke  her  right 
to  rest.  The  shining  splendor  of  copper  and  pewter 
brought  no  balm  to  her ;  the  plates  looked  down  from 
their  racks  with  unsympathetic  moon-faces  and  the 
knives  and  spoons  gleamed  in  derision  from  their  racks 
also.  She  had  been  industrious,  working  always  from 
dawn  to  dark,  proud  of  results — and  this  was  the  end ! 
She  filled  the  air  with  reproaches,  recriminations,  self- 
laudings  and  heartbroken,  little  cries ;  she  was  by  turns 
noisy  in  her  grief  and  then  again  plunged  into  a  bitter 

315 


God's  Puppets 


silence,  during  which  her  needles  went  on  unceasingly 
— the  only  sign  of  life  about  her. 

Jan  fingered  his  long-stemmed  pipe,  but  he  did  not 
smoke ;  that  consolation  was  not  for  him.  For  the  most 
part  he  was  very  quiet,  though  every  now  and  again  he 
would  break  out  with  some  reminiscence  of  Annetje's 
childhood,  speaking  in  that  subdued  tone  the  voice  takes 
on  in  recalling  the  ways  and  likings  of  those  who  are 
no  longer  living.  It  almost  seemed  to  him  that  An- 
netje  was  dead.  Certainly  that  little  simple,  pure- 
souled  girl  he  had  once  known  and  loved  was  no  more. 
She  had  vanished.  He  droned  half  to  himself,  half  to 
his  companion,  about  the  trivial  happenings  of  those 
other  days.  The  words  the  child  had  first  learned ;  her 
little  fancies  about  the  flowers,  her  delight  in  the  thumb 
and  finger  play  and  how  she  used  to  laugh  over  his 
change  of  voice  for  the  Dame  and  the  Friar,  and  the 
squeaking  treble  of  the  small  maid-servant. 

"  Laugh — laugh — laugh,"  he  said  slowly,  his  own 
face  breaking  into  a  smile  as  he  looked  before  him  see- 
ing the  whole  scene.  "  And  then  it  was :  '  Over  again, 
dear  Jan,  over  again.'  Twenty  times  in  succession 
have  I  done  it  at  her  bidding." 

In  the  grief  the  man  and  woman  shared  in  common 
neither  one  heeded  the  other's  sorrow;  each  went  on 
with  a  separate  monologue,  or  remained  sunk  in  deep 
thought.  The  old  dog  wandered  restlessly  in  and  out 
of  the  kitchen,  the  pad-pad-of  his  step  breaking  the 
quiet  there.  Sometimes  he  would  climb  the  stairs  and 
snuff  loudly  at  the  closed  door,  scratching  for  admit- 
tance, or  he  would  lie  on  the  floor  without  with  the 
patience  of  his  kind,  waiting  through  the  long  hours. 

316 


Jan  as  Knight 


He  came  boisterously  down  the  stairs  with  the  rol- 
licking spirits  of  a  puppy  as  the  tall  clock  in  the  corner 
struck  nine,  preceding  his  mistress — running  forward 
a  few  steps  and  then  back  to  her  and  throwing  himself 
against  her  in  his  delight.  The  girl  moved  slowly, 
dragging  her  feet  a  little,  but  she  came  on  resolutely 
to  the  kitchen  door.  The  room  was  lighted  by  a  single 
candle  on  the  table  where  Heilke  had  just  finished  pre- 
paring a  tray  of  food  for  her  master.  She  looked  up 
as  Annetje  entered ;  she  had  not  seen  the  girl  since  that 
morning  and  she  opened  her  lips  now  to  upbraid  her, 
reproof  being  sometimes  a  veil  for  her  deeper  feelings. 
Annetje  came  quite  close,  the  light  revealing  her  white 
face,  with  its  dark-ringed  eyes,  over  which  the  waters 
of  sorrow  had  gone  drowning  all  its  former  happiness. 
It  was  like  the  face  of  the  dead^  so  strangely  aloof  did 
it  seem. 

"  Is  that  for  my  father?  "  she  asked  swiftly.  "  Let 
me  take  it  to  him,  please,  Heilke — dear  Heilke " 

She  put  her  hands  on  the  old  woman's  where  they 
grasped  the  tray  and  displaced  them  gently,  but  firmly. 
Heilke,  too  much  surprised  to  offer  any  opposition,  fell 
back  without  a  word  and  watched  the  girl  as  she  left 
the  room.  As  her  steps  receded  along  the  hall  without, 
Jan  leaned  forward  from  his  corner  grasping  the  stem 
of  his  pipe  so  tightly  that  it  broke  in  twain  and  fell  to 
the  floor. 

"  Dear  God !  she  doesn't  know,"  he  whispered 
sharply. 

"  No  more  she  doesn't,"  Heilke  breathed.  "  Oh !  my 
poor  lamb,  clean  gone  distracted  as  she  is  and  wearing 
her  Sunday  gown  all  these  hours — was  there  ever  such 

317 


God's  Puppets 


shiftlessness  ?  The  domine  thinks  she  knows — and 
he'll  speak  sudden — owee!  owee!  I  must  go  after 
her " 

"  Let  be,"  Jan  commanded  in  a  voice  she  dared  not 
disobey.  "  Suffering  draws  folks  together  and  plants 
love  between  them;  let  them  find  that  out  for  them- 
selves. It's  God's  will." 

Annetje,  in  the  meantime,  went  on  to  the  study,  found 
the  door  ajar  and  entered  the  room.  The  candles 
were  burning  on  the  table  where  the  domine  had 
set  them  earlier ;  he  had  been  busy  over  some  writing, 
but  at  her  step  he  started,  almost  as  if  he  had  been 
listening  for  it,  and  turned  his  shaking  face  toward 
her. 

"  Myn  -wit  lammetje — it  is  you — at  last — "  the  words 
came  with  a  rush. 

"  Yes,  father,"  her  voice  trembled,  "  Heilke  let  me 
bring  your  supper — see,  I  put  it  here.  You  must  eat 
every  mouthful " 

"  Yes — yes — come  closer,  kleintje,  it  has  been  a  sad 
day  for  you." 

She  turned  slightly  from  his  glance. 

"  It  is  over,"  she  said  wearily,  after  a  short  pause. 
"  I  am  only  tired  now,  and  somehow  I  can't  talk — I 
want  to  be  very  still — you — you — don't  mind  and  you 
understand?  I  just  came  to  say  good-night." 

"  My  little  one — my  little  one — God  bless  you  for 
coming  to  your  old  father." 

They  were  at  cross-purposes  even  in  this  moment  of 
sorrow,  as  they  had  been  all  their  lives,  each  misunder- 
standing the  other.  She  had  expected  to  be  greeted  by 
bitter  reproaches  and  rebukes  and  had  steeled  herself 


Jan  as  Knight 


to  meet  them ;  after  the  other  punishment  love  had  en- 
dured all  pain  seemed  trivial  in  comparison.  While  he, 
on  his  part,  had  looked  for  vehement  upbraiding  and 
poignant  sorrow.  Near  as  they  were  physically  they 
were  only  at  the  surface  of  things  after  all ;  real  com- 
prehension of  each  other's  needs  did  not  touch  them. 
It  was  the  tragedy  of  misapprehension — the  most  piti- 
ful tragedy  of  all.  He  put  out  his  hand  and  drew  her 
face  down  to  his  and  kissed  her  fondly. 

"  Myn  wit  lammetje — myn  lammetje — "  he  said 
brokenly,  then  he  released  her. 

She  clung  to  his  arm  with  both  hands,  trembling  in 
her  turn. 

"  You  are  so  good — so  good,"  she  cried  a  trifle  wildly, 
"  my  heart  is  very  grateful." 

She  stood  away  from  him  after  a  moment,  regaining 
her  self-control  with  a  great  effort;  then  she  moved 
toward  the  door,  paused,  and  looked  back. 

"  Eat  every  mouthful,  father,"  her  voice  was  still  un- 
steady, though  she  tried  to  make  it  playful  and  sweet, 
"  every  mouthful  please,  else  Heilke  will  be  vexed  and 
good-night — good-night." 

The  last  words  came  to  him  from  far  down  the  hall 
as  she  took  her  way  back  to  her  room.  Heilke  called 
to  her  sharply  and  she  turned  from  the  stairs  and  en- 
tered the  kitchen  again. 

"  You  have  had  no  food  since  morning,"  the  woman 
began. 

"  I  am  not  hungry — just  tired — very  tired.  I  must 
rest.  I — I — could  not  even  talk  to  my  father.  Let  me 
pass.  You  shall  not  look  at  me  like  that,  I  have  done 
no  wrong,"  her  voice  sharpened  in  sudden  agony. 

319 


God's  Puppets 


"  Oh !  you  don't  believe  that  I  am  what  Vrouw  Pieterse 
said." 

The  silence  hung  heavy  in  the  room ;  Jan  leaned  for- 
ward breathlessly. 

"  No,"  he  almost  shouted. 

"  No,"  the  old  woman  stammered  faintly,  "  no — no 
—that  is " 

"  Don't  spoil  it  please,"  Annetje  interrupted  with 
simple  dignity.  "  Let  it  be  that  way.  Good-night  to 
you  both." 

"  Now  perdition  snatch  Vrouw  Pieterse  and  all  who 
listen  to  her  foul  tongue,"  Jan  cried  in  a  whirlwind  of 
grief  and  rage  as  the  door  of  that  upper  room  was  closed 
softly,  "  and  forty  million  plagues  seize  on  that  black 
hearted  villain.  I'll  seek  him  out,  I'll  trounce  him,  I'll 
shame  him,  who  has  cast  shame  upon  the  whitest  soul 
that  ever  lived.  She  could  have  done  no  wrong  and 
shown  us  that  face." 

"  No/'  Heilke  said  again  very  slowly,  "  I'd  believe 
her  against  the  whole  world." 

With  the  morning  light  Jan's  confidence  was  un- 
shaken, but  Heilke's  had  suffered  some  diminution ;  the 
kindlier  feelings  she  had  held  toward  the  girl  overnight 
were  tinctured  largely  with  the  thought  of  the  scandal 
in  the  neighborhood  and,  seen  through  that  medium, 
they  were  very  bitter.  Dull  and  tired  from  the  long 
sleepless  hours  in  which  she  had  repeatedly  gone 
through  the  misery  of  the  previous  day,  she  stumbled 
about  her  work  with  swollen  eyelids.  At  first,  she  did 
not  resent  the  fact  that  Annetje  still  lingered  above- 
stairs,  though  it  was  contrary  to  all  precedent ;  one  part 
of  her  nature  was  ready  to  make  excuses  for  the  girl 

320 


Jan  as  Knight 


who  was  in  such  sore  distress,  even  though  the  other 
part  disapproved  strongly.  But  as  the  day  advanced 
she  began  to  grumble.  The  necessity  that  is  put  upon 
women  to  toil,  even  while  they  weep,  was  one  which 
Heilke  observed  herself  and  demanded  all  others  to  ob- 
serve likewise.  Imbued  with  this  thought  she  went 
noisily  up  the  stairs,  fortified  with  authority,  but  a  min- 
ute later  she  came  hurrying  down  with  a  distorted,  ashy 
face,  from  which  all  semblance  of  power  had  fled,  leav- 
ing only  a  great  fear  in  its  stead.  Jan,  who  unlike  her 
could  find  no  relief  in  employment,  was  lounging  with- 
out on  the  porch;  he  ran  quickly  into  the  kitchen  at 
the  sound  of  her  agonized  wail,  and  with  blanching  face 
listened  to  the  news  that  Annetje  was  not  in  her  room. 

"  She's  somewhere  in  the  garden,  never  fear,"  he 
said  cheerily  enough.  "  Nature's  got  a  way  of  calling  to 
her  children  to  comfort  them  in  their  trouble — she'll 
help  the  little  maid  better  than  we  can." 

Partly  convinced  by  this  reasoning  and  the  confidence 
of  his  tones,  and  too  much  disturbed  at  the  time  for 
further  argument,  Heilke  returned  to  her  work.  Jan 
waited  for  a  while,  pretending  a  sudden  deep  interest  in 
the  roots  of  a  creeper  near  the  house,  but  when  the 
clatter  of  pans  assured  him  that  she  was  deeply  en- 
grossed in  her  labors  he  moved  rapidly  away  whipped 
by  fears  he  could  not  overcome.  He  sought  the  gar- 
den, beating  up  every  nook  and  corner  and  searching 
the  little  lane  without,  and  the  adjoining  thicket.  Twice 
he  went  over  the  ground  calling  now  softly,  now  more 
loudly,  using  the  little  heart-names  of  her  childhood, 
'  Ladybird — Sweetheart — Jan's  Bright  Eyes  '  but  no 
answer  greeted  him  anywhere. 

321 


God's  Puppets 


Finally  he  crept  back  in  great  dejection  to  the 
kitchen  door  where  the  sun  had  long  since  passed  the 
noon  mark  and  Heilke^  who  had  evidently  kept  only 
half  an  eye  upon  her  work,  came  briskly  out  to  meet 
him.  When  she  saw  his  face  she  threw  her  apron  over 
her  own,  and  broke  into  little,  whimpering  moans. 
Neither  spoke  for  a  few  moments,  then  the  old  woman 
withdrew  her  apron  and  they  fell  into  a  low  talk  made 
up  of  vague  surmises  and  ill-disguised  fears.  Jan,  the 
more  hopeful  of  the  two,  argued  that  Annetje  had  been 
driven  by  her  grief  out  into  the  country  in  the  hope  of 
finding  relief  far  from  the  haunts  of  men  in  the  heal- 
ing stillness;  she  had  probably  gone  out  in  the  early 
morning  before  they  had  risen  and  would  return  with 
the  nightfall.  But  Heilke  would  not  listen  to  such  a 
suggestion,  convinced  as  she  was  that  Annetje  would 
never  go  of  her  own  free  will  while  there  remained  the 
chance  of  an  encounter  with  anyone  who  had  witnessed 
her  degradation.  Harm  had  come  to  the  child.  The 
bees  had  not  swarmed  low  that  spring  for  nothing, 
and  there  had  been  other  signs  of  ill  besides — it  was 
useless  to  disregard  them — they  boded  disaster  and 
sorrow. 

Utterly  cast  down,  her  strong  nature  shattered,  the 
old  woman — as  if  she  were  indeed  a  child — was  anxious 
to  seek  her  master  in  her  distress  relying  upon  his  coun- 
sel ;  but  Jan  stopped  her  fiercely.  There  seemed,  to  his 
mind,  no  necessity  to  involve  the  domine  in  deeper  sor- 
row, for  in  speaking  of  Annetje's  absence  and  their 
fears  the  whole  story  of  the  letter  and  what  it  signified 
must  be  told  in  its  turn.  Happily,  for  the  moment,  the 
father  was  ignorant  of  the  grief  and  shame  to  which 

322 


Jan  as  Knight 


his  daughter  had  been  subjected,  and  Jan  determined 
to  keep  the  matter  secret  for  a  while  longer  at  least. 
He  would  seek  Annetje  himself  and  bring  her  home 
safely;  his  vengeance  against  the  English  officer  must 
wait  in  the  face  of  this  new  difficulty. 

Suddenly  it  dawned  upon  him,  as  he  cast  about  for 
some  way  out  of  the  trouble,  that  the  girl  in  her  de- 
spair, eager  for  sympathy  which  she  could  not  find 
among  her  own  people,  had  sought  out  Peggy  Crewe 
at  Greenwich.  The  thought  came  like  an  inspiration. 
In  an  instant,  though  usually  slow  of  action,  he  formed 
his  plans  communicating  them  rapidly  to  his  compan- 
ion who  saw  no  hope  in  the  enterprise  and  derided  them 
with  a  bitter  tongue.  Jan,  however,  was  not  to  be 
turned  from  his  purpose  by  mere  words.  The  day  had 
unexpectedly  grown  brighter  to  him.  He  hurried 
away  intent  on  his  quest,  leaving  to  Heilke  the  sad- 
der task  which  women  must  always  bear  of  remain- 
ing at  home,  practically  useless  through  hours  whose 
every  minute  seems  age-long  in  the  dark  period  of 
waiting. 

He  went  directly  through  to  the  Broadway  and 
walked  rapidly  on  beneath  the  shade  of  beech  and  locust 
trees  in  their  rich  leafage  of  summer.  At  that  hour  the 
street  was  almost  deserted  and  he  met  but  few  wayfar- 
ers ;  several  chapmen  loitered  by  bawling  their  wares, 
an  empty  chair  swang  past,  the  bearers  swearing  loudly 
at  each  other,  and  a  pretty  girl,  attended  by  a  negro 
wench,  sauntered  demurely  along.  Once  he  caught 
sight  of  a  scarlet  uniform  well  on  in  front  of  him  and, 
tingling  with  excitement,  he  started  in  pursuit,  stum- 
bling in  his  haste  to  overtake  the  wearer.  He  came  up 

323 


God's  Puppets 


with  him  at  Little  Queen  Street  and  put  a  stern  hand 
on  his  collar,  but  the  officer  turned  out  to  be  a  fat,  blear- 
eyed  individual  who  swore  roundly  at  the  Dutchman 
for  his  impudence  and  was  for  haling  him  off  to  the 
magistrate  on  the  instant.  Happily  for  the  offender, 
however,  there  was  a  little  stir  at  this  juncture  occa- 
sioned by  the  appearance  of  the  Public  Crier  crying  the 
loss  of  Miss  Sally  Remsen's  purse  and,  in  the  confusion 
attendant  upon  that  ceremony,  Jan  escaped  and  crept 
on  to  Old  Windmill  Lane  where  he  turned  down  to  the 
waterside.  There,  in  full  view  of  the  river — its  surface 
just  windkissed  into  tiny,  glinting  ripples — and  the  lux- 
uriant green  of  the  Jersey  hills  on  the  other  side  he  went 
forward;  tired,  faint,  sick  with  apprehension,  utterly 
regardless  of  any  beauty  in  God's  earth,  or  sky. 

The  little  village  reached  at  last,  he  was  beset  by 
fresh  difficulties.  At  the  time  of  Miss  Crewe's  depart- 
ure from  the  parsonage  he  knew  she  had  gone  immedi- 
ately to  Greenwich,  but  whether  to  her  own  home,  or 
to  visit  friends,  he  was  equally  ignorant.  Acting  upon 
the  supposition  that  she  lived  there  he  went  from  house 
to  house,  making  inquiries,  and  was  finally  rewarded 
by  being  directed  to  a  cottage  lying  some  distance  be- 
yond the  settlement  to  the  north. 

The  house,  when  he  came  up  to  it,  despite  the  beauty 
of  its  vine-covered,  rambling  exterior,  struck  a  chill  to 
his  heart  and  sent  a  blinding  mist  of  tears  into  his  eyes. 
The  windows  and  doors  were  closed,  and  the  whole 
place  wore  a  deserted  appearance.  He  steadied  him- 
self against  the  support  of  the  porch.  It  was  too  much 
to  bear !  All  that  time  lost — his  own  fatigue  counted 
for  less  than  nothing — it  was  only  of  the  precious  min- 

324 


Jan  as  Knight 


utes  that  he  thought,  and  of  Annetje — where  was  she? 
He  stormed  at  the  door  in  his  despair,  throwing  him- 
self against  it  and  bruising  his  hands  with  knocking, 
as  if  the  senseless  wood  held  a  message  for  him,  which 
he  must  beat  out  in  some  way.  But  it  remained  closed 
and  deaf  to  his  appeals — like  Heaven,  he  told  himself 
dully. 

Utterly  spent  and  hopeless  he  turned  at  last  to  go 
and,  at  the  same  moment,  a  woman  thrust  a  sleepy 
face  out  of  an  upper  window  and  demanded  his  busi- 
ness. As  her  vision  cleared,  and  she  noted  his  attire, 
she  overwhelmed  him  with  coarse  vituperations,  but  he 
cared  little  for  them,  standing  his  ground  and  repeating 
his  questions  whenever  she  paused  for  breath.  In  the 
end  his  patient  punctiliousness,  which  would  have  soft- 
ened a  heart  of  stone,  won  the  desired  information. 
There  had  been  no  little  Dutch  maiden  there  that  day, 
nor  any  day,  and  Miss  Crewe  was  with  her  family  at 
the  town  house  over  against  the  Fort. 

Back  again  by  the  way  he  had  come  Jan  toiled.  The 
river  gleamed  now  rose,  now  amethyst,  now  gold,  in 
his  unseeing  eyes,  the  little  waves  chattering  happily  to 
one  another  in  the  freshening  breeze.  A  wood-thrush 
from  a  low  bush  bubbled  out  its  joyous  notes  and  far- 
ther away  a  Bob  o'  Lincoln  gave  its  soft  call,  but  he 
did  not  heed  them.  How  long  the  way  was ! 

Through  the  lane  again  to  the  Broadway  where  a 
few  figures  of  fashion  strolled  idly  and  some  leather- 
aproned  apprentices  hastened  past,  their  day's  work 
over  and  done.  The  air  was  full  of  the  sad  donging  of 
the  cow-bells  as  the  cows  went  slowly  homeward  in 
the  glow  of  the  setting  sun.  The  clanging  sound  smote 

325 


God's  Puppets 


Jan's  ears  fearfully  and  sent  him  along  with  new  im- 
petus, running  a  little  at  times,  and  then  again  moving 
with  feet  weighted  with  a  heaviness  that  made  it  im- 
possible for  him  to  do  more  than  crawl.  How  long 
the  way  was — how  long ! 


326 


XXVIII 

PEGGY  INTERCEDES 

The  door  was  opened  and  closed  by  an  impetuous 
hand,  and  the  further  sound  of  silken  skirts  rustling 
over  the  waxed  floor  aroused  the  old  man  from  his  bit- 
ter thoughts.  He  had  been  waiting  but  a  few  minutes 
— though  they  had  seemed  like  hours  to  him — in  the 
brilliantly  lighted  room  where  the  candles,  reflected  on 
every  side  in  long  mirrors,  mocked  him  with  their  glare. 
Candles — candles — candles — an  infinity  of  splendor 
that  dazzled  him,  unaccustomed  as  he  was  to  such  lav- 
ish display.  He  rubbed  his  eyes  to  ease  their  ache  and 
took  a  step  forward  to  meet  the  advancing  figure 
dressed,  for  some  rout,  in  silver  stuff  brocaded  with  lit- 
tle roses,  with  creamy  lace  making  a  soft  mist  about  the 
whiteness  of  throat  and  bosom  and  falling  from  the 
elbow-sleeves  over  the  rounded  arms.  The  same  light 
that  accentuated  the  girl's  loveliness  showed  him  a  dis- 
cordant note  amid  the  rich  surroundings  with  his  dis- 
ordered dust-stained  clothes,  the  tired  droop  of  his 
shoulders  and  his  haggard  face  in  which  hope  kindled 
anew  at  sight  of  her.  He  uttered  a  little  cry. 

"  You — "  her  clear  voice  cut  like  a  whip-lash. 
"  They  told  me  it  was  someone  with  a  message  of  deep 
import.  I  wonder  you  dare  come  hither." 

"  I  couldt  not  my  message  py  your  serfing-man  gif, 
327 


God's  Puppets 


juffrouw,  it  vas  alone  for  you.     I  am  come  to  seek  our 
chilt — our  Annetje " 

"  And  what  should  she  do  here,  pray  ?  " 

"  I  ton't  know.  I  joost  t'ink  maype  she  has  neet  of  a 
vort  vis  you." 

"  What  word  from  her  would  I  hear  ?  "  Peggy  de- 
manded swiftly,  blind  to  the  anguish  in  his  face  which 
drowned  his  piteous  attempts  at  a  smile.  "  Oh !  I  know 
I  was  a  stranger  to  you  all,  but  you  showed  me  kind- 
ness and  I  trusted  you,  Annetje  especially — she  knew 
why  I  had  taken  refuge  among  you,  and  she  promised 
to  keep  my  secret.  Fool  that  I  was,  I  thought  it  safe 
with  her.  Then  I  was  forced  out  of  my  hiding — you, 
yourself  came  to  me  with  the  story,  and  the  moment  I 
was  gone  the  tongues  of  your  people  were  let  loose  in- 
stigated by  that  little  cat " 

"  No,  no,  juffrouw,  so  of  Annetje  shall  you  not 
speak.  No  vort  has  t'e  chilt  sait,  nopoty  toes  she  efer 
see,  ant  alvays  to  Heilke  she  say  t'e  people  ton't  know 
v'at  t'ey  talk  of.  Tat  is  so,  peliefe  me." 

Peggy  snapped  her  fingers  disdainfully. 

"  Oh !  of  course  you  are  telling  me  the  truth,"  she 
mocked,  "  'tis  a  pity  it  does  not  fall  in  with  my  humor 
to  credit  it.  And  now  that  you  have  said  your  say  I 
can  very  readily  dispense  with  your  company." 

She  moved  a  step  or  two  nearer  the  mirror,  ignoring 
him  as  if  he  were  no  more  than  the  chair  she  brushed 
by  impatiently,  spread  her  fan  wide  and  half  saluted 
'the  vision  that  faced  her  from  its  depths  with  a  pretty 
show  of  dimples.  Jan  stood  watching  her  for  a  mo- 
ment ;  then  he  caught  her  gown  almost  roughly  between 
his  fingers,  fearful  lest  she  might  vanish. 

328 


Peggy  Intercedes 


"  Juffrouw  listen,  t'e  chilt — how  can  I  tell  you  ? — she 
is  no  more  at  home — she  is  gone " 

"  As  I  wish  you  were." 

"  Juffrouw,  to  your  heart  I  haf  a  vort  to  say." 

The  insistent  appeal  in  his  voice,  no  less  than  in  his 
touch,  arrested  her  attention.  She  stepped  back  a  few 
paces  and  instantly  the  figure  in  the  glass  retreated  also, 
hovering  like  some  gay  little  shadow  in  the  distance  as 
if  peering  curiously  at  the  two  actors  of  the  scene. 

"  Why  do  you  annoy  me  in  this  way  ?  I  do  not  know 
where  she  is,  I  tell  you,  nor  do  I  care.  She  would  not 
come  here.  She  has  wronged  me  too  deeply — oh !  deny 
it,  deny  it,  if  you  wish — only  that  doesn't  alter  matters. 
I'm  not  one  of  your  soft  kind ;  I  don't  forgive  easily  and 
I  don't  forget.  It's  just  as  well  for  her,  perhaps,  that 
she  didn't  come.  What  could  she  want  to  say  to  me  ?  " 

Jan  remained  silent  as  if,  with  this  opportunity  to 
unburden  himself,  he  had  lost  all  power  of  utterance; 
he  did  not  appear  even  to  have  heard  her  questions. 
The  impatient  sweep  of  her  fan  recalled  him  to  a  real- 
ization of  his  surroundings  and  he  plunged  into  a  pitiful 
account  of  what  had  befallen  Annetje  the  day  before. 
His  story  was  uninterrupted  from  beginning  to  end,  but 
as  he  finished  the  girl,  unable  to  control  herself  longer, 
turned  upon  him  in  a  frenzy  of  anger. 

"  How  dare  you  slander  my  cousin  in  this  fashion  ?  " 
she  cried,  white  with  displeasure.  "  I  wish  I  could  have 
you  whipped — He  would  not  stoop  to  do  what  you  have 
said.  It's  some  trick  on  your  part  to  force  his  liking 
for  that  little  soft-faced  she-thing,  to  bind  him  to  her. 
He  never  received  the  letter " 

"  Put,  juffertje,  it  vas  t'ere— nailt  to  t'e  toor,  I  tell 
329 


God's  Puppets 


you,  for  t'e  people  to  see  ant  laugh  at  it  ant  her — at 
her,  oh !  my  tear  Kott.  Ant  she  must  go  pack  home — 
tisgracet.  If  I  couldt  kill  him  t'at  tone  t'at  crime  it 
vouldt  not  help  her — she  is  proken-heartet  forefer. 
Tear  Kott !  t'at  proken-heartet,  little  v'ite  face  she  show 
to  us  last  night,  so  pure  as  any  lily." 

"  My  cousin  did  not  do  that  thing — he  is  a  gentleman 
— That  was  the  work  of  a  cur." 

"  Put  t'e  letter  vas  to  him— only  to  him,"  Jan  pro- 
tested obstinately,  "not  any  ot'er  one  couldt  haf  it. 
Impossiple!  See,  here  it  is — reat  you  yourself  ant 
tecite." 

Peggy  seized  the  paper  which  he  tobk  from  his  breast 
and  bent  over  it  with  relentless,  mocking  eyes ;  she  felt 
little  mercy  for  Annetje. 

"  Tis  not  an  easy  hand,"  she  murmured  with  a  con- 
temptuous laugh,  "  hmm ! — hmm !  "  Then  she  began 
to  read  the  contents  half  to  herself,  half  aloud. 

Jan  crept  nearer,  intent  on  hearing,  though  every 
word  of  the  letter  had  bitten  into  his  memory  as  in- 
delibly as  the  etcher's  acid  bites  upon  his  plates. 

"  A  little  louter,  p*lease." 

"  '  Dear  my  captain,'  "  Peggy's  voice  softened  mo- 
mentarily. "  '  Never  you  come  to  my  garden  any  more, 
very  dark  is  it,  like  the  winter  is  here  and  the  flowers 
live  not.  Oh !  believe  me,  no  word  do  I  ever  say  about 
Miss  Crewe — I  swear  it  by  the  most  holy  thing  to  me 
— the  thought  of  my  mother!  I  say  nothing.  You 
will  come  some  more  here?  So  long  the  time  is  when 
I  see  you  not.  Please  come,  sir,  please  to  come  soon — 
right  away.  Good-by,  your  Annetje.'  " 

Something  between  a  sob  and  a  roar  escaped  from 
330 


Peggy  Intercedes 


Jan's  throat,  as  grief  and  anger  wrestled  afresh  within 
him.  Peggy  looked  his  way ;  the  disdain  gone  from  her 
glance,  her  face  full  of  pity.  She  had  taken  up  the 
letter  prepared  to  ridicule  it,  but  the  sight  of  the  girl's 
heart  that  showed  between  the  lines  and  in  every  word 
conquered  her.  Her  eyes  were  wet  and  tears,  as  a  gen- 
eral rule,  were  far  from  their  laughing  depths.  The 
truth  of  Annetje's  denial  seemed  unmistakable.  But 
even  if  it  were  false  and  she  had  disclosed  the  secret, 
what  punishment  could  be  keener  than  the  one  inflicted 
upon  her  ?  It  was  out  of  all  sense  of  proportion,  Peggy 
told  herself  with  quickening  breath.  It  was  too  dread- 
ful. Public  whipping,  the  stocks,  the  pillory — the  ig- 
nominy of  each  and  all  was  nothing  in  comparison  to 
the  disgrace  Annetje  had  suffered.  If  the  covering 
had  been  dragged  from  her  body  and  she  had  been  cast 
naked  on  the  streets,  it  would  not  have  been  so  fiendish 
an  indignity  as  this  stripping  the  veil  from  her  heart 
and  showing  its  inmost  corners.  Peggy's  cheeks 
flamed,  all  her  womanhood  up  in  arms  against  this  cru- 
elty to  one  of  her  sex.  Her  anger  against  Annetje  had 
merged  into  wrath  and  contempt  against  the  man  who 
had  subjected  the  girl  to  so  great  an  insult,  yet  there 
were  tenderer  feelings  stirring  within  her,  too,  to  de- 
fend and  excuse  him,  to  deny  strenuously  such  an  ac- 
tion on  his  part. 

"  Put  t'e  chilt,  juffertje — you  haf  not  seen  her?  " 
The  despair  in  Jan's  voice  struck  across  that  constant 
see-saw  of  did  and  didn't  in  her  breast ;  one  minute  dis- 
belief in  her  cousin's  innocence  rode  high,  then  belief 
swung  in  its  stead.  She  was  dizzy  with  the  alternate 
thoughts. 

331 


God's  Puppets 


"  Not  since  I  left — how  long  ago  it  seems !  "  She 
faltered  a  moment.  "  Do  you  think  she  has  gone  to 
him  ?  "  she  asked  in  a  low  voice. 

Jan  recoiled  as  if  she  had  struck  him  a  blow. 

"  To  him,  juffrouw,  to  him — ant  he  has  tone  like  t'at 
to  her?" 

"  She  may  excuse  him,  who  can  say  ?  She  loves  him, 
and  women  don't  change  all  in  a  minute.  She  has  no- 
where else  to  go.  Heilke  is  right  in  thinking  that  she 
would  shrink  from  being  seen  by  the  persons  who  had 
witnessed  her  shame."  The  girl  was  very  gentle,  it 
was  Peggy  at  her  best  who  was  speaking. 

"  Veil  t'en,  v'at  is  it  I  can  to?    In  t'e  tark  am  I." 

She  hesitated  momentarily,  her  face  softening  and 
growing  hard  by  turns  with  the  stress  of  her  emotions. 

"  We'll  go  together  and  find  her,"  she  said  simply. 
"  Poor  little  Annetje !  If  she  is  not  with  him,  he  may 
be  able  to  tell  us  where  to  seek.  But  first  I  must  get 
something  to  throw  over  my  gown.  I  will  be  with  you 
again  directly." 

She  returned  after  a  short  absence  wrapped  in  a  long 
cloak  of  scarlet  cloth,  the  hood  drawn  low  over  her  face. 
She  moved  with  the  utmost  caution  and,  signalling  him 
to  follow,  led  the  way  along  the  corridor  through  the 
great  door,  which  she  opened  almost  noiselessly  though 
she  was  less  careful  about  closing  it,  out  into  the  quiet 
street.  The  few  pedestrians  they  met  were  too  intent 
upon  their  own  concerns  to  give  more  than  a  casual 
glance  to  the  heavily  shrouded  figure  attended  by  the 
old  Dutchman.  Sometimes,  when  a  link-boy  threw  his 
light  across  her  path,  she  cowered  nearer  her  compan- 
ion and  once,  when  a  band  of  sailors — on  shore  for  a 
'332 


Peggy  Intercedes 


night's  frolic — passed  them  and  several  of  their  num- 
ber turned  with  the  cry — '  A  petticoat !  A  petticoat ! ' 
she  clung  to  Jan's  arm  like  a  little  child.  The  simple 
dignity  of  his  presence  was  sufficient  protection  and  her 
tormentors  withdrew  with  boisterous  laughter.  After 
that,  she  met  with  no  other  adventure. 

For  the  most  part  they  found  the  Broadway  as  peace- 
ful as  at  high  noon ;  the  night  was  still  young  and  few 
roisterers  were  abroad.  The  coffee-houses  and  ordi- 
naries they  passed  were  as  yet  slimly  patronized,  but 
through  the  open  windows  they  could  see  the  card- 
tables  all  laid  out,  and  occasionally  there  came  the 
rattling  of  dice  and  the  quick  slapping  down  of  paste- 
board on  wood  where  some  of  the  most  inveterate 
gamesters  were  already  at  play. 

The  man  and  girl  went  rapidly  forward,  without  a 
word  to  each  other,  until  they  reached  Crown  Street, 
into  which  they  turned  and  walked  a  short  distance 
west.  Then  Peggy  stopped  in  front  of  a  moderate-sized 
brick  house  and  arrested  her  companion's  progress  by 
a  hasty  touch.  The  windows  on  the  second  floor  were 
oblong  patches  of  light  and,  through  their  parted  cur- 
tains, the  spectators  had  a  glimpse  of  a  meagrely 
furnished  sitting-room  with  a  solitary,  dejected-look- 
ing figure  lounging  over  a  table.  Peggy  felt  her  heart 
beat  tumultuously.  It  was  the  first  time  she  had  seen 
Bellenden  since  that  long-ago  day  in  Annetje's  garden 
and,  angry  as  she  told  herself  she  ought  to  be  with  him, 
she  was  conscious  only  of  a  great  delight  at  this  mo- 
ment which  swept  all  other  considerations  aside.  She 
knew  he  had  been  abroad  both  that  day  and  the  previous 
one;  she  knew  also  that  he  was  too  proud  to  come  to 

333 


God's  Puppets 


her  home  until  she  sent  him  word.  If  she  sent  him 
word!  What  would  not  that  mean  to  him  and  her? 
That  very  evening  the  balance  had  swung  well  to  the 
side  which  spelled  both  Bellenden's  happiness  and  her 
own,  but  a  little  touch  on  Jan's  part  had  swung  it  back 
irrevocably.  She  choked  down  the  thought. 

Acting  under  her  hurried  directions,  Jan  rapped  sev- 
eral times  on  the  door  which,  after  a  long  period  of 
waiting,  was  opened  by  a  surly  looking  man  who 
held  some  dirty  cards  in  one  hand,  as  if  he  had  been 
interrupted  in  the  midst  of  a  game.  He  admitted  them 
without  a  word  and,  after  indicating  the  upper  room 
with  a  comprehensive  sweep  of  his  thumb,  he  went 
back  along  the  way  he  had  come,  leaving  Jan  and 
his  companion  to  mount  the  stairs,  or  not,  as  they 
saw  fit. 

Bellenden,  who  was  trying  to  amuse  himself  with  an 
old  number  of  "  The  Spectator,"  heard  the  approach  to 
his  floor  with  the  utmost  indifference;  the  house  held 
other  tenants  and  he  was  looking  for  no  company.  He 
was  almost  entirely  recovered  of  his  wound,  though  his 
whole  person  wore  an  air  of  lassitude  and  his  face  was 
white  and  haggard  as  a  result  of  his  sufferings  both 
mental  and  physical.  As  the  steps  paused  at  his 
threshold  he  turned  to  throw  an  inquiring  eye  at  the 
intruders.  Jan  was  in  front,  his  features  blazing  with 
hatred,  but  after  the  briefest  glance  Bellenden,  seem- 
ing scarcely  to  recognize  him,  looked  past  him  at  the 
woman's  figure  which,  heavily  cloaked  and  hooded 
though  it  was,  bore  an  indisputable  appearance  of  qual- 
ity. In  a  moment  he  was  on  his  feet  and  across  the 
room. 

334 


Peggy  Intercedes 


"  What  fresh  folly  is  this  ?  "  he  demanded  in  an  angry 
voice  as  he  put  his  hand  roughly  on  the  girl's  shoulder. 
"  Why  will  you  so  disregard  consequences  ?  " 

"  La,"  Peggy  retorted,  flaring  up  in  her  turn  at  the 
reproof  and  authority  in  his  manner,  "  'tis  not  for  any 
pleasure  the  sight  of  your  face  can  give  me,  I  warrant 
you,  but  for  a  vastly  more  important  matter.  Pray 
have  the  civility,  sir,  now  that  I  am  here  to  allow  me 
to  enter." 

"  Stay  where  you  are,"  he  commanded  shortly,  "  at 
least  until  I  have  drawn  the  curtains.  Then  you  may 
come  in  and  be  very  welcome,  Peggy,"  his  voice  soft- 
ened, "  even  though  I  know  it  is  not  right  for  you  to 
be  here." 

She  would  not  allow  herself  to  be  appeased  by  any 
tenderness  on  his  part,  but  remained  testily  on  the 
threshold  while  he  screened  the  windows  and  removed 
the  candles  to  a  greater  distance.  When  he  had  fin- 
ished she  advanced  into  the  room,  unloosening  her  car- 
dinal and  throwing  back  its  hood.  He  devoured  the 
fairness  of  her  face  with  greedy  eyes,  and  she  flushed 
a  little  beneath  his  gaze,  though  she  met  it  defiantly 
enough  at  first.  Then  her  own  glance  wavered  and 
fell. 

"  All  this  to-do  to  save  a  girl's  name  from  gossip," 
she  sneered,  for  the  sake  of  saying  something  to  quiet 
the  gladness  that  filled  her  heart  at  this  evidence  of  his 
care  of  her.  "  'Tis  a  thousand  pities  that  you  did  not  ob- 
serve the  same  precautions  toward  that  other  girl.  Her 
name  is  as  much  to  her  as  mine  is  to  me.  For  my  own 
part,  knowing  what  my  errand  is,  I  care  not  if  the  whole 
world  should  see  me  here.  I  am  come  to  learn  some- 

335 


God's  Puppets 


thing  about  Annetje  Ryerssen.  Tell  me  where  she  is 
and  I  will  be  gone  immediately." 

"If  you  were  a  man  I  should  know  how  to  answer 
you,  but  because  you  are  a  woman  I  find  it  a  more  diffi- 
cult matter.  I  have  not  seen  the  lady  you  mention, 
madam,  for  weeks." 

Jan  uttered  a  bitter,  wordless  cry  and  covered  his 
face  with  his  hands.  He  had  moved  aside  to  let  Peggy 
enter  and  then  had  taken  up  his  position  near  the  closed 
door,  he  was  somewhat  removed  from  his  companions, 
who  were  within  a  few  feet  of  each  other,  as  if  his  grief 
set  him  apart  from  them. 

"  You  will  say  next  that  you  have  not  heard  from 
her?" 

"  Whatever  I  say  will  be  the  truth." 

"  So  this  is  the  home  of  all  the  virtues?  Very  pretty 
— very  pretty." 

Bellenden  did  not  take  any  notice  of  the  slow,  im- 
pertinent stare  with  which  Peggy  glanced  around  the 
four  walls  of  his  room. 

"  Whatever  I  say  will  be  the  truth,"  he  repeated. 
"Though  I  confess  it  mystifies  me,  notwithstanding  my 
slight  acquaintance  with  your  vagaries,  that  you  should 
take  up  cudgels  in  behalf  of  one  who  has  done  so  much 
to  injure  you.  Both  you  and  I,  madam,  have  a  long 
score  to  settle  with  this  same  Annetje  Ryerssen." 

"  Then  I  think  you  have  settled  it — shall  we  say  sat- 
isfactorily?— from  your  stand-point,  that  is,"  Peggy 
cried  sharply.  "For  myself  I  would  never  stoop  to  your 
methods,  not  even  if  she  had  injured  me  a  thousand 
times  more  deeply  than  she  has,  I  would  scorn  to  use 
them.  Vent  your  spleen  as  you  like,  sir,  but  don't  dare 

336 


Peggy  Intercedes 


to  say  it  was  done  in  my  behalf.  What,  treat  a  girl 
like  that,  hold  her  up  to  contempt,  use  her  own  hand 
to  testify  against  her  ?  Oh !  gallant  conduct,  worthy  of 
a  gentleman  and  a  soldier.  Disgraced  as  Annetje  was 
in  the  sight  of  those  people,  I  warrant  she  was  a  far 
nobler  figure  in  their  thoughts  than  the  man  who,  for- 
getting his  manhood,  subjected  her  to  that  treatment." 

"  You  are  speaking  in  riddles,"  he  interrupted  hotly, 
though  his  voice  dragged  with  pain,  "  I  do  not  under- 
stand you.  Perhaps  you  will  have  the  goodness  to 
make  your  meaning  clear." 

She  did  not  answer  him  but  took  the  letter  from  her 
dress  and  tossed  it  contemptuously  upon  the  table.  He 
leaned  forward  and,  picking  it  up,  read  it  through 
slowly,  read  it  again,  and  still  again ;  then  he  raised  a 
wondering  face  to  the  two  pair  of  watchful  eyes. 

"  First  you  come  here  demanding  Annetje's  where- 
abouts, then  you  give  me  a  letter  from  her.  I  confess 
I  stand  in  need  of  some  more  definite  explanation." 

"  Put  t'at  letter,  sir — it  is  yours  alreaty  ?  " 

"  Yes,  it  is  mine,  it  belongs  to  me.  I  do  not  know 
how  it  came  into  my  cousin's  keeping." 

Jan  choked  over  a  torrent  of  indistinguishable  words 
and  leapt  toward  the  speaker,  his  fist  upraised.  But 
Peggy,  with  a  quick,  catlike  spring,  caught  his  arm  be- 
fore it  could  descend  upon  the  man  who  stood  regarding 
them  both  in  apparent  unconcern  for  himself. 

"  There,  there,  Jan,  one  moment — let  me  speak.  Let 
me  tell  this  gentleman  how  I  came  to  be  in  possession 
of  property  which  he  shows  us  he  prizes  so  highly." 

"  Go  on,  madam,  I  am  all  attention." 

She  poured  forth  her  scorn  rapidly,  her  cheeks  flam- 
337 


God's  Puppets 


ing,  her  accusations  winged  with  bitterness.  A  short 
silence  followed  her  words  broken  only  by  Jan's  la- 
bored breathing;  even  the  sound  of  her  cloak  falling 
from  her  shoulders  to  the  floor  was  increased  tenfold 
by  the  absolute  quiet  of  the  room. 

"  That  you  could  suppose  me  guilty  of  such  conduct, 
Jan  Praa,  I  can  readily  understand,"  Bellenden  said  at 
last.  "  I  know  how  sincere  your  devotion  to  Annetje 
has  been,  and  is,  and  to  have  her  treated  in  such  fashion 
is  enough  to  drag  the  very  sun  from  the  firmament.  It 
is  enough  to  blind  you  to  any  fair  estimate  of  a  man's 
honor.  This  letter  was  written  to  me,  it  bears  my 
name — hence  you  may  be  excused  for  thinking  I 
scorned  it  as  it  was  scorned.  But  until  this  moment  I 
never  saw  it,  believe  that,  or  not  as  you  choose.  It  is 
the  truth !  May  I  be  blasted  where  I  stand  if  it  is  not 
so.  Who  held  this  up  to  public  ridicule,  I  cannot  guess, 
but  I  will  leave  no  stone  unturned  to  discover  and  pun- 
ish the  person  who  has  dared  to  fix  this  blot  on  her  and 
on  me  as  well."  He  went  a  little  closer  to  the  old  man. 

"  Even  if  you  believe  me,"  he  said  in  a  lower  voice, 
"  you  will  not  find  it  easy  to  forgive  me  for  what  my 
thoughtlessness  has  wrought,  since  it  is  now  so  inex- 
tricably woven  with  this  wrong.  It  is  true  that,  until 
a  few  weeks  ago,  I  passed  many  an  afternoon  with  An- 
netje in  her  garden — my  visits  unknown  to  the  domine. 
Yet  never  for  a  moment  have  I  loved  her,  nor  have  I 
treated  her  with  less  respect  than  I  should  make  the  test 
of  a  man's  conduct  to  my  own  sister.  This  I  swear  by 
all  that  is  holy.  It  was  just  a  pastime  for  me,  I  thought 
it  the  same  for  her.  In  the  face  of  this,  however,"  he 
touched  the  letter  gently,  "  such  a  justification  as  mine 

338 


Peggy  Intercedes 


casts  small  glory  upon  me  and  for  that  reason  I  feel 
very  guilty,  though  innocent,  indeed,  of  what  you  ac- 
cuse me." 

Jan  eyed  him  doubtfully,  at  a  loss  what  to  think  or 
say.  Bellenden  had  the  appearance  of  a  man  speaking 
the  truth,  and  the  unsparing  fashion  in  which  he  blamed 
himself  did  something  to  lessen  Jan's  wrath  toward 
him,  though  he  had  neither  the  heart,  nor  the  tact,  to 
admit  as  much.  Bellenden  stood  waiting  for  some 
word;  even  anger  would  have  been  preferable  to  the 
silence  which,  filled  by  his  own  condemning  thoughts, 
was  unbearable.  He  looked  almost  wistfully  at  the  old 
man,  seeing  only  him  in  the  room.  He  seemed  to  have 
forgotten  the  girl's  presence  but,  as  she  moved,  he 
turned  in  her  direction  and  stared  coldly  at  her  letting 
his  glance  wander  over  the  graceful,  slender  figure  in 
its  pretty  show  of  finery.  Suddenly  a  spasm  of  pain 
contracted  his  face. 

"  I  can  find  excuses  in  plenty  for  Jan  Praa's  censure," 
he  cried  with  quick  scorn,  "  though  I  can  find  none  for 
you.  I  have  suffered  your  injustice  before,  but  I  will 
not  suffer  it  now.  By  heavens !  you  shall  take  back  your 
accusations."  He  stepped  swiftly  to  her  side  and  seized 
her  wrist,  his  fingers  closing  around  it  like  a  vise. 
"  Look  at  me,"  he  commanded,  between  his  teeth,  "  do 
you  hear?  And  tell  me  if,  in  your  heart,  you  believe 
the  charges  your  lips  have  made." 

She  kept  her  eyes  persistently  lowered,  the  flush 
deepening  along  her  face  and  throat  under  his  stern 
regard  which  seemed  to  penetrate  to  her  very  soul. 
He  tightened  his  hold. 

"  Look  at  me." 

339 


God's  Puppets 


"  Sir,  sir,  like  a  pirt  tefenting  its  young  she  tefentet 
you ;  no  vort  of  plame  vouldt  she  hear.  Two  wrongs 
ton't  efer  make  a  right,  juffertje,  ant  pecause  t'ere  once 
haf  peen  misunterstantings  ant  sorrow  apout  t'e  letter 
is  no  reason  t*at  t'ey  shouldt  pe  again.  Up,  ant  speak." 

Peggy  gave  a  low  laugh  for  answer,  but  she  would 
not  lift  her  eyes ;  she  tried  instead  to  free  her  hand. 

"  You  hurt  me,"  she  murmured. 

"  Not  so  much  as  you  hurt  me,"  Bellenden  returned 
in  a  swift  whisper,  and  though  he  loosened  his  fingers 
a  trifle  he  did  not  relax  his  hold.  "  One  word  to  con- 
firm what  Jan  has  said — bless  him !  " 

"  Two  words — forgive  me." 

"  Freely.     Come,  sweet,  just  one  look." 

"  La,  you  men  are  never  satisfied,"  her  face  dimpled, 
then  suddenly  grew  very  grave.  "  Let  me  go,  Cousin 
Bellenden,"  she  cried,  but  not  ungently,  so  he  could 
take  no  offence,  "  I  came  hither  seeking  poor  Annetje ; 
you  must  help  us  if  you  can.  She  has  been  from  home 
all  through  the  day  and  Jan  has  sought  her  out  to 
Greenwich " 

"  So  proken-heartet  vas  t'e  chilt,  Kott  knows  v'at  has 
pecome  of  her." 

"  You  don't  think — "  Bellenden  began  sharply,  then 
his  voice  broke. 

"  I  ton't  t'ink  not'ings— only  gone  avay  is  she." 

"  What  does  the  domine  say  ?  "  Bellenden  demanded. 
"  Surely  he  did  not  believe  that  black  thing  of  me." 

"  Not'ings  he  knows  yet  of  t'e  letter  ant  Annetje — 
to  him  ve  keep  quiet.  He  has  trouples  so  teep,  so  pitter, 
as  nefer  vas.  Put  it  grows  late.  I  must  t'e  chilt 

seek " 

340 


Peggy  Intercedes 


"  I  will  go  with  you  and  on  the  way  you  can  tell  me 
what  has  befallen  the  domine.  It  will  be  best  to  go 
directly  to  the  parsonage,  for  Annetje  may  have  re- 
turned during  your  absence,  though  first  I  must  take 
my  cousin  to  her  home " 

"  No — no — no — I  will  not  go  back  there.  The  do- 
mine  helped  me  in  my  need  and  if  he  is  in  trouble  I  may 
be  able  to  help  him  a  little.  You  will  not  hinder  me?  " 

Bellenden  wrapped  the  cloak  around  the  girl,  smiling 
into  her  beseeching  eyes  as  he  fastened  the  hood  be- 
neath her  chin. 

"  Have  your  way,  child,  I  can  refuse  you  nothing." 

She  put  her  hand  timidly  on  his  arm  as  they  quitted 
the  room ;  Jan,  somewhat  in  advance,  had  already  begun 
the  descent  of  the  stairs. 

"  Jack,"  she  breathed. 

He  bent  toward  her,  a  great  happiness  in  his  face. 

"  Mischief — Torment — Sweetheart " 

"  No,  no,  forget  everything,  only  that  once  you  prom- 
ised to  serve  me  in  any  way  I  desired — with  your  time, 
your  heart,  your  life." 

"  I  remember — they  were  not  mere  words." 

"  Then  when  Annetje  is  found,  you  will  make  her 
your  wife." 

He  recoiled  a  step. 

"  You  ask  too  much,"  he  said  with  a  bitter  laugh. 

"  She  loves  you,  and  think  what  her  life  will  be  with 
those  narrow  people  always  crying  her  down;  she  can 
never  rise  above  their  suspicions  and  their  taunts  with- 
out your  aid.  Think  of  the  degradation  she  has  en- 
dured and  besides,  you  owe  her  some  reparation  for 

this  indignity " 

341 


God's  Puppets 


"  I  owe  her  none — 'twas  not  of  my  doing — I  will  not 
marry  her." 

"  For  my  sake,  Jack." 

"  It  is  for  your  sake  that  I  cannot  do  as  you  ask — I 
love  you." 

She  turned  from  him  slowly  and  moved  to  the  stairs. 

"  Between  us  both  we  have  brought  nothing  but  sor- 
row and  trouble  to  that  father  and  daughter,"  she  said 
sadly.  "  Jan  told  me,  long  ago,  that  the  domine's  par- 
ishioners were  angered  by  my  stay  in  his  house;  that 
he  might  even  lose  his  church  in  consequence ;  and  now 
this  stigma  laid  upon  Annetje  he  must  suffer  as  well. 
Oh !  try  to  right  the  wrong — It  is  in  your  power " 

"  It  is  easy  for  you  to  ask  this  of  me,"  he  interrupted 
savagely,  "  because  my  love  is  nothing  to  you." 

"  Is  it  so  easy  for  me  ?  "  She  paused,  with  her  hand 
on  the  stair-rail  and  turned  her  face  over  her  shoulder, 
looking  steadily  at  him  where  he  stood  some  paces  back 
of  her ;  the  light  from  the  room  shone  full  into  her  up- 
raised eyes.  "  Would  it  make  it  any  easier  for  you  to 
know  that  it  is  hard  for  me — the  hardest,  bitterest  thing 
I  have  ever  done — or  could  ever  do  ?  " 

He  uttered  a  sharp  cry  and  moved  unsteadily  toward 
her  with  outstretched  arms ;  she  put  up  her  hand  to  keep 
him  away. 

"  If  I  had  not  thought  I  could  trust  you  I  would  not 
have  told  you  this,  but  because  I  rely  on  your  honor 
I  let  you  see  into  my  heart,  and  I  know  you  will  respect 
what  you  have  seen.  Think  of  Annetje  Ryerssen's 
heart  exposed  there  to  that  crowd  of  curs  and  be  very 
merciful  to  her." 

"  Peggy  you  ask  too  much/'  he  cried  again. 
342 


Peggy  Intercedes 


"  Not  more  than  you  will  do." 
He  waited  a  long  minute ;  they  both  waited. 
"  No,"  he  said  at  last,  "  not  more  than  I  will  do." 
She  did  not  trust  herself  to  look  into  his  face  again, 
but  bent  swiftly  and  touched  his  coat-sleeve  with  her 
lips.    Then  she  ran  down  the  stairs  and  joined  Jan  in 
the  door-way. 


343 


XXIX 

THE  ANGEL  OF  THE  DARKER  DRINK 

It  was  growing  light,  though  it  was  still  some  time 
before  dawn ;  everywhere  the  gray  sky  bent  above  the 
gray  land,  and  in  the  east  the  morning  star,  its  fires  un- 
dimmed,  kept  watch  over  the  sleeping  world.  A  half- 
awakened  bird,  stirring  in  the  eaves,  let  fall  a  drowsy 
cheep  and  from  a  distance,  mellowed  into  a  silver  note, 
came  the  crowing  of  a  cock.  Then  deep  silence  seemed 
to  rush  in  on  the  extinction  of  these  small  sounds  as  if 
Nature  imposed  quiet  upon  her  creatures  of  tree  and 
field  and  stayed  breathless  herself  to  witness  the  mira- 
cle of  the  new  day's  coming. 

In  the  hush  Annetje  stepped  out  upon  the  kitchen 
porch  and  closed  the  door  cautiously  behind  her.  She 
stood  for  some  moments,  awed  by  the  great  stillness, 
her  face  turned  toward  the  garden  where  indistinct 
shapes  rose  out  of  the  mist  melting  vaguely  into  one 
another.  The  perfumes  of  the  dreaming  flowers  came 
to  her  like  a  message,  calling  with  an  insistence  she 
could  not  resist.  She  moved  toward  them  with  extrem- 
est  care,  but  light  as  her  footfalls  were,  and  powerless 
to  arouse  the  inmates  of  the  house,  they  did  not  escape 
the  hearing  of  the  old  watch-dog.  With  a  low  growl 
he  bounded  up  from  his  slumbers  and  ran  swiftly  after 
the  dim,  receding  figure,  his  menacing  note  changing 
to  a  sharp  woof  of  delight  as  he  overtook  the  girl.  She 

344 


The  Angel  of  the  Darker  Drink 

knelt  down,  her  arms  stretched  wide  to  welcome  him, 
and  dragged  him  close  to  her  breast,  stilling  his  glad 
cries  with  little  soft  whispers.  So  for  a  few  minutes 
they  remained  close  together  in  that  big,  silent  world 
with  love  speaking  low  between  their  hearts. 

It  grew  lighter.  Near-by  objects  stood  out  more 
clearly;  the  trees  and  bushes  took  on  their  own  forms 
and  back  of  her  the  house  became  a  definite  shape.  The 
star  paled  slowly  before  the  surer,  nearer  approach  of 
dawn. 

Annetje  looked  up  at  the  increasing  brightness  with 
dilating  eyes.  It  was  so  pitiless — it  seemed  to  mock  her. 
She  pushed  the  dog  aside  with  an  impatient  touch  and 
sprang  to  her  feet,  taking  her  way  swiftly  through  the 
garden.  Hollyhocks,  drenched  with  dew,  rose  tall  and 
straight  on  either  side  of  the  path;  beyond  them  the 
tiger  lilies  showed  blurred  outlines,  their  glowing, 
freckled  cups  unseen ;  then  came  the  phlox,  not  ready 
yet  to  bloom,  and  the  little  lane  of  sweet  peas  with  each 
blossom  "  on  tiptoe  for  a  flight."  She  knew  the  whole 
array  only  too  well,  but  she  would  not  pause  anywhere 
though,  as  she  passed,  like  fairy  voices  the  fragrance 
of  the  growing  things  called  out  to  detain  her :  '  Here 
am  I,  lavender — ' '  here  am  I,  sweet  marjoram — '  '  here 
am  I,  lemon-balm — '  no  cry  too  tiny  to  escape  her 
hearing. 

Something  stronger  than  her  resolution,  however, 
made  her  crouch  down  by  the  side  of  the  heart-shaped 
bed  and  lean  across  its  low  border.  In  the  growing 
light  she  could  distinguish  the  flowers  perfectly.  The 
pansies  of  the  earlier  year  were  gone  and,  in  their  stead, 
tufts  of  sweet  alyssum  gleamed  up  at  her  with  friendly, 

345 


God's  Puppets 


little  white  faces;  china  pinks  and  clove  whispered  a 
welcome  with  their  spicy  breaths  and  the  mignonette, 
too,  had  its  own  message  of  gladness.  She  pulled  some 
of  the  blossoms  and  bent  over  them  with  murmuring 
words  and  kisses  before  she  put  them  into  her  dress 
then,  without  another  glance,  she  fled  through  the  rest 
of  the  garden  to  the  little  gate  which  friendship,  play- 
ing at  love,  had  often  opened  and  which  had  so  recently 
been  closed  by  another  hand. 

She  did  not  realize  until  she  set  it  ajar,  so  preoccupied 
was  she  with  her  thoughts,  that  Joris  had  followed  her 
and,  before  she  could  detain  him,  had  run  past  her 
into  the  lane.  She  ordered  him  home  sternly.  Usu- 
ally obedient,  for  the  dog's  part  is  always  to  love  and 
serve  without  seeking  to  understand,  Joris  was  muti- 
nous on  this  occasion.  He  would  not  go  back  but 
couched  at  her  feet,  his  head  pressed  close  against  his 
paws,  his  eyes  raised  to  her  face.  It  was  his  way  of 
begging  for  a  favor.  She  prodded  his  side  cruelly 
with  her  foot,  hating  him  for  forcing  her  to  do  such 
a  thing  and  hating  herself  the  more  for  doing  it.  He 
would  not  heed  her  commands,  instead  he  lay  motion- 
less, entrenched  in  his  revolt,  looking  at  her  mournfully 
and  submitting  without  a  groan  to  the  unaccustomed 
blows  which  were  rained  upon  him.  She  tried  to  drag 
him  back,  but  he  was  very  heavy,  and  she  unusually 
weak,  so  that  her  efforts  availed  hardly  to  stir  him. 
She  desisted  finally  and  sank  down  at  his  side,  her  tears 
falling  unchecked  upon  his  face. 

"  Oh !  I  have  hurt  you,"  she  wailed,  "  forgive  me, 
old  dear  heart,  forgive  me.  But  won't  you  understand 
that  I  can't  take  you  with  me?  You  must  go  home. 

346 


The  Angel  of  the  Darker  Drink 

Ah !  "  she  broke  off  with  a  shrill  cry,  looking  wild- 
ly around.  "  It's  morning — it's  morning — I  cannot 
stay " 

The  day  had  come  at  last — triumphant,  rose- 
crowned — it's  fore-runners,  with  their  slender  lances  of 
gold,  pricking  through  the  heavy  purple  clouds,  rend- 
ing them  apart  and  leaving  everywhere  a  trace  of  red 
to  mark  the  march  of  conquest.  Sky  and  earth 
throbbed  with  brightness  and  the  loveliness  of  dawn 
found  an  echo  in  the  voices  of  happy  birds.  From  the 
laburnum  bushes  within  the  gate  a  robin  tinkled  out 
its  thin,  sweet  song  of  midsummer  and  across  the  lane, 
right  in  front  of  Joris  whose  mind  was  on  other  mat- 
ters, an  impudent  squirrel  frisked,  eager  to  seek  his 
breakfast. 

Annetje  followed  the  flash  of  his  audacious  tail  with 
an  indifferent  glance  that  suddenly  became  attentive 
and  fixed  upon  a  long,  motionless  object  which,  half 
hidden  in  the  grass,  had  been  disturbed  by  the  animal's 
progress.  She  was  on  her  feet  in  an  instant  and  ran 
to  the  spot  to  see  if  her  eyes  had  deceived  her,  but  there, 
to  support  their  testimony,  lay  a  piece  of  rope  heavy 
with  rain  and  dew,  yet  offering  her  a  means  of  escape. 
She  picked  it  up  with  a  cry  of  relief  and  strained  it 
backward  and  forward  to  test  its  strength.  The  rope 
had  been  used  by  Larry  to  tie  his  horse  the  day  of 
Peggy's  departure  and  he  had  neglected  to  put  it  in  the 
chaise  when  they  had  driven  away.  To  find  it  at  this 
moment,  however,  caused  no  wonderment  on  Annetje's 
part.  She  did  not  question  anything,  satisfied  only  to 
recognize  in  it  a  speedy  deliverance  out  of  her  trouble. 
For  stay  she  could  not,  and  to  go  with  Joris  as  com- 

347 


God's  Puppets 


panion  would  be  to  balk  the  purpose  that  had  grown 
steadily  within  her  through  the  long  hours  of  her  an- 
guish, and  which  could  not  now  be  put  aside. 

She  went  back  to  the  motionless  dog,  her  eyes  averted 
from  his  loving  glance,  and  passed  an  end  of  the  rope 
through  the  leather  strap  which  formed  his  collar.  It 
was  the  last  indignity  love  could  offer,  or  receive. 
Never,  in  a  long  life,  had  Joris  known  the  gall  of  bonds. 
He  had  been  free  as  air,  free  to  go,  to  come,  to  follow 
— unrebuked.  The  faith  and  affection,  meted  out  to 
him,  had  met  their  counterparts  in  him  though,  on  his 
side,  they  reached  a  far  loftier  stature  for  memory  and 
gratitude  were  always  with  him.  He  was  perhaps  a 
little  slow  in  comprehending  her  action  now,  since  he 
had  only  the  past  to  go  by,  for  he  lay  very  still  and 
once  he  thumped  his  tail  upon  the  ground  half-play- 
fully,  and  once  he  ran  his  tongue  out  and  licked  her 
fingers  as  they  made  the  knot  firm.  He  did  not  seem 
to  understand. 

She  stood  away  from  him  and  dragged  the  other  end 
of  the  rope  to  a  tree,  binding  it  around  the  trunk  and 
tying  it  fast,  her  hands  trembling,  yet  relentless,  at  the 
same  time.  So  she  could  hurt  love  too,  hold  him  up 
to  scorn,  deride  his  weakness.  A  dog's  heart — or  a 
girl's — what  were  they  for  unless  it  was  to  suffer 
through  too  much  loving?  All  through  the  scale  of 
creation,  from  the  higher  to  the  lower,  injury  ran,  the 
stronger  inflicting  it  upon  the  less  strong,  the  less 
strong  in  its  turn  on  a  weaker,  the  weaker  on  a  weaker 
still.  A  chain  of  endless  suffering — power  misapplied 
and  abused ! 

Yet  she  told  herself  there  was  some  excuse  for  what 
348 


The  Angel  of  the  Darker  Drink 

she  had  done.  It  was  imperative  that  she  should  so 
act.  The  fault  was  his,  since  he  would  not  understand 
and  obey  her.  He  understood  her  at  last,  and  got  to  his 
feet  straining  at  his  bonds.  It  was  only  a  play,  to 
his  thinking,  though  hers  was  the  face  of  heartbroken 
despair.  He  strained  a  second  time,  a  third,  bringing 
all  his  strength  to  the  action,  but  the  rope  held  firm ; 
he  confessed  himself  beaten  with  a  low  whine.  She 
stood,  eying  him  a  moment  in  sorry  triumph,  then — 
victor  though  she  was — she  knelt  to  him — the  van- 
quished one — and  took  his  head  between  her  hands. 

"  Oh !  Joris,  my  Joris,  forgive  me — look  at  me,  deep 
down  into  my  very  heart  and  see  how  I  love  you,  even 
though  I  hurt  you  this  way.  By  and  by  someone  will 
find  you  and  will  set  you  free — won't  you  be  patient  till 
then,  Joris  boy  ?  Oh !  I  cannot  stay  here — I  cannot — 
just  as  you  would  be  free  of  this,  so  must  I  be  free  of 
what  drags  me  down,  and  in  my  own  fashion." 

She  covered  his  face  with  kisses  then  relinquished  it 
and  stood  up — turning  to  go,  but  swift  as  thought  she 
bent  again  and  kissed  his  neck  where  the  knot  of  rope 
bit  against  his  skin. 

"  Forgive  me,  forgive  me,  and  good-by." 

She  left  him  then,  running  with  her  head  bent,  her 
hands  covering  her  ears  to  keep  out  the  clamor  of  his 
protesting  voice.  She  did  not  glance  back  for  a  last 
look  and  yet,  for  a  long  time  in  the  gathering  bright- 
ness, she  would  have  been  able  to  see  his  lonely  figure 
making  those  futile  leaps  in  air. 

By  degrees  she  slackened  her  pace,  not  so  much  from 
fatigue,  though  she  was  quivering  under  its  lash,  as 
from  the  fear  that  if  she  chanced  to  meet  anyone  her 

349 


God's  Puppets 


haste  might  arouse  surprise  and  perhaps  suspicion. 
It  was  as  yet  early  day  and  the  streets  and  lanes  were 
empty  of  all  human  life,  but  already,  in  some  of  the 
humbler  homes  that  she  passed,  the  folk  were  astir ;  the 
clang  of  opening  shutters,  or  doors,  and  voices  calling 
to  unseen  persons  gave  evidence  that  the  world  was 
waking  to  its  tasks  once  more.  The  sounds  filled  her 
with  dread,  yet  made  her  outwardly  more  circumspect. 
In  a  little  while  the  streets  would  be  full  of  people — 
people  who  would  stop  to  sneer  at  her  as  she  went  by, 
and  to  point  her  out  in  derision  to  one  another. 

Under  the  stress  of  this  thought  she  crept  swiftly 
forward,  not  running,  but  walking  at  a  quick  pace ;  she 
dared  not  loiter.  Part  of  the  way  her  route  lay  within 
view  of  the  East  River,  gleaming  like  silver  in  the  new 
risen  sun,  the  wharves  filled  with  shipping,  whose  ser- 
ried masts  clove  the  sky  with  their  sturdy  points.  Now 
and  again  the  voice  of  a  sailor  in  the  rigging  calling  to 
a  fellow-sailor  reached  her  on  the  clear,  fresh  breeze 
and  once  a  burst  of  laughter  sent  her  cowering  nearer 
the  earth,  as  if  it  had  fallen  like  a  blow  upon  her  bare 
flesh. 

For  the  most  part,  however,  she  paid  scant  regard  to 
her  surroundings,  her  mind  was  filled  with  two  sights 
and  two  alone.  Her  letter  fixed  against  the  church  door 
in  the  cruel  sun — and  Joris  bound  and  helpless  back 
there  in  the  lane.  Love  crucified  in  both  instances,  love 
mocked  at !  When  she  remembered  the  one,  she  must 
remember  the  other.  Yet  the  extremest  bitterness  she 
suffered  was  for  her  action  to  Joris,  for  her  heart,  as 
his,  was  ready  to  forgive  the  insult  the  loved  one  had 
inflicted,  but  she  could  not  pardon  herself.  She  felt 

350 


The  Angel  of  the  Darker  Drink 

no  resentment  against  Bellenden ;  she  was  too  crushed 
by  his  treatment  to  cry  out  against  it  even.  That  he 
had  justified  to  himself  his  punishment  of  her  she  was 
most  sure,  he  would  not — could  not — have  imposed  it 
else.  So  she  reasoned,  knowing  that  Joris,  in  his  turn, 
must  think  that  though  she  had  treated  him  so  merci- 
lessly she  had  but  acted  according  to  her  best  wisdom 
— he  could  not  tell  why !  Nor  could  she  any  the  easier 
find  an  explanation  for  Bellenden's  conduct.  Only  she 
was  willing  to  exonerate  him  from  blame ;  she  would 
not  doubt  him.  Love  must  pardon  and  trust  unre- 
servedly if  it  is  to  remain  love  to  the  end. 

Queen  Street  reached,  she  walked  a  trifle  slower ;  in 
this  quarter  there  was  small  danger  that  she  would  en- 
counter any  acquaintances,  as  the  residents  were  mostly 
fashionable  folk  of  English  origin,  but  the  fact  gave 
her  scant  comfort.  To  her  mind  the  whole  world  knew 
her  story  and  here,  or  elsewhere,  voices  would  not  be 
lacking  to  swell  the  chorus  of  reproach  against  her. 
The  hum  of  life  had  begun  everywhere.  Apprentices 
lounging  to  their  work  passed  her  with  curious  glafnces, 
a  man  driving  some  cows  to  pasture  called  out  a  "  good- 
morning  "  to  her,  but  the  salutation  so  terrified  her  that 
she  hurried  on  without  a  word,  leaving  him  to  gape 
after  her  white,  grief-stricken  face  and  to  think  no  par- 
ticular good  of  her ;  children,  running  out  to  play,  eyed 
her  with  wonderment  and  once  a  dog  frisked  about  her 
feet  and  gave  a  new  wrench  to  her  heart.  Almost 
fainting  with  fatigue  and  despair  she  yet  kept  on  un- 
falteringly, and  before  long  the  street  brought  her  out 
into  Bowery  Lane. 

She  turned  away  gladly  to  where  the  green  of  hills 


God's  Puppets 


and  lowlands  beckoned,  experiencing,  for  the  first  time 
in  many  hours,  a  feeling  of  relief.  Everything  was 
very  calm  and  still  around  her ;  there  were  no  sneering 
faces  or  voices  to  be  encountered  anywhere;  nothing 
but  the  great,  sweet  quiet  of  the  mother  earth  and  the 
peace  of  the  high,  blue  heavens  waited  for  her  with 
their  encompassing  content.  The  leaping  silver  of  a 
brook  flashed  in  her  eyes  and  the  tinkle  of  its  voice 
greeted  her  merrily;  bright  flowers  nodded  a  recogni- 
tion from  marshy  places;  long  grasses  waved  their 
blades  softly,  like  so  many  friendly  hands,  and  on  every 
side  there  was  a  note  of  welcome  in  the  gush  of  bird 
song.  She  crept  on  reassured.  Presently,  just  before 
her,  the  Collect  gleamed  from  out  the  sedges  on  its 
shores,  its  still  surface  holding  a  picture  of  the  sur- 
rounding trees  and  the  soft  summer  sky. 

She  looked  at  it  curiously.  How  placid  it  was  with 
the  bit  of  heaven  in  its  grasp !  It  did  not  seem  possible 
that  in  its  bottomless  depths  there  dwelt  great  sea-mon- 
sters, terrible  of  aspect,  yet  such  had  been  seen  by  sol- 
itary individuals.  She  gave  a  little  shudder  and 
glanced  apprehensively  about  as  the  old  legends  flitted 
through  her  mind.  And  there  were  other  stories  as 
well — stories  of  those  dead  sachems  who  used  to  pre- 
side over  the  village  on  the  pond's  western  shore  and 
whose  spirits  came  back  night  after  night  to  revisit  the 
glimpses  of  the  moon.  Many  a  loiterer  near  the  spot 
at  such  times  had  heard  the  dip-dip  of  ghostly  pad- 
dles, though  not  a  ripple  could  ever  be  seen  on  the 
crystal  waters.  Even  in  the  light  of  day  she  could  not 
keep  the  growing  fear  out  of  her  heart. 

She  stood  fighting  with  herself.  Back  there  in  her 
352 


The  Angel  of  the  Darker  Drink 

home  those  blue  waters  had  offered  such  an  easy  escape 
from  all  her  troubles.  The  thought  had  come  to  her, 
at  first  the  merest  suggestion,  then  with  a  force  she 
could  not  resist,  as  she  tried  to  readjust  her  plan  of 
life  to  meet  the  morning's  demand.  Poor  little  broken 
plan !  She  could  not  go  through  life  day  after  day — 
day  after  day — to  old  age  perhaps,  with  that  intoler- 
able, undying  ache  in  her  breast,  facing  scorn,  shamed 
in  the  sight  of  men.  It  was  impossible.  Death  was 
easier — preferable  far !  All  the  beauty  had  gone  out  of 
her  world — it  was  very  dark. 

Why  should  she  fear?  What  was  there  to  fear? 
She  stepped  a  little  nearer,  and  looked  around  with  a 
more  intrepid  glance.  From  the  shores  of  the  pond 
the  hills  stretched  upward  clothed  with  trees,  bushes 
and  long  trails  of  blackberry  vines,  birds  darted  in  and 
out  of  the  tangle  of  green  undaunted,  and  above  the 
sky  watched.  There  was  nothing  to  fear — the  place 
was  full  of  the  very  peace  of  God.  Outside  in  the 
world,  where  cruel  things  were  said — and  crueller, 
thought,  and  done — where  Love  went  broken-hearted, 
and  Faith  and  Trust  could  not  live,  there  stayed  the 
things  to  tremble  before,  but  not  here — oh !  not  here. 

She  cast  about  for  ways  and  means.  After  just  the 
first  it  would  not  be  difficult.  The  waters  would  take 
her  to  themselves  so  gently,  she  would  know  nothing 
more.  It  was  very  simple.  She  hesitated,  looking 
again  at  the  hills  all  about,  at  the  green  earth,  at  the 
vivid,  kindly  sky  and  suddenly  her  whole  soul  was  in 
revolt.  With  death  so  near,  that  she  could  almost  hear 
the  trailing  of  the  great,  shadowy  wings,  all  the  strong 
love  of  life  and  for  life,  which  is  in  every  human  being, 

353 


God's  Puppets 


rose  in  her  and  tried  to  overwhelm  her  purpose.  She 
drew  her  breath  in  with  a  deep  gasp,  and  moved  to  the 
bank  seizing  the  bough  of  a  young  tree  firmly  with  her 
hands.  As  she  waited  to  swing  herself  free  there  was 
a  strange,  panting  noise  almost  at  her  side  and  the 
sound  of  hurrying  feet,  with  nothing  human  in  their 
tread,  coming  closer — and  closer.  She  turned  giddy; 
sky,  earth,  water  became  an  indistinguishable  blur  be- 
fore her  eyes.  On  the  moment  she  was  filled  with  a 
shivering  dread  of  the  unseen.  All  the  traditions  of 
the  horrors  of  the  pond  seized  upon  her  afresh;  she 
trembled  from  head  to  foot  and  half  let  go  her  hold 
then,  with  a  quick  rush  of  courage,  she  swung  herself 
out.  The  sapling  bent  with  her  weight  and  slipped 
back  to  its  place — void  of  all  encumbrance ;  the  waters 
opened  smilingly  to  receive  her.  If  was  not  so  hard ! 

She  rose  to  the  surface,  struggling  a  little,  and 
reached  out  vainly  toward  the  shore  that  seemed  so  near 
and  yet  was  beyond  her  grasp.  Oh  God,  how  bright 
the  sun  was  on  the  trees — how  beautiful  the  world! 
Something  large  and  dark  splashed  in  the  water  a  short 
distance  away,  she  glanced  helplessly  in  its  direction — 
the  light  was  growing  dim 

"  Why — Joris — Joris — "  she  breathed.  Then  the 
arms  of  death  closed  round  her  and  drew  her  tenderly 
down. 

So  Joris  found  her  in  their  embrace,  requited  her  act 
of  cruelty  to  him  by  one  of  loving  service,  brought  her 
back  again  to  the  earth  and  its  ways,  her  body  at  least 
— her  soul  was  free.  Only  he  could  not  know  that. 


354 


XXX 

THE  NEW  DAY 

Jan  led  the  way  into  the  kitchen,  his  companions  fol- 
lowing. They  had  come  round  the  house,  thus  avoid- 
ing the  front  door. 

"  Is  the  child  home  ?  "  he  demanded  in  a  tremulous 
voice  of  the  darkness. 

"  She  is  not  with  you  ?  Merciful  Powers !  I 
thought,  because  you  were  so  long  gone,  you  had 
surely  found  her.  Well,  then,  you  are  trying  to  trick 
me ;  I  heard  other  steps  than  yours.  Come  you  in,  An- 
netje,  my  little  one,  I've  made  you  some  cinnamon 
cakes " 

"  She  is  not  with  me — would  to  God  she  were !  I 
have  brought  Captain  Bellenden  and  Miss  Crewe." 

Heilke  did  not  utter  a  sound  at  this  piece  of  informa- 
tion, nor  did  she  stir  from  her  corner. 

"  They  will  help  us  seek  the  child.  Get  a  light, 
woman,  na — na — in  a  time  like  this  we  can't  turn  aside 
sympathy." 

"  If  it  hadn't  been  for  them,"  Heilke  muttered  in  her 
own  tongue,  "  this  evil  wouldn't  have  come  to  us.  They 
are  at  the  bottom  of  all  the  trouble — we  want  none  of 
their  sympathy." 

"  There,  there,  woman,"  Jan  interposed  wearily,  "  let 
be.  The  captain  says  he  had  no  hand  in  the  business 

355 


God's  Puppets 


of  the  letter;  he  had  not  seen  it  until  Miss  Crewe 
showed  it  to  him — and  I  believe  his  word." 

"  Ay,"  Heilke  returned  bitterly,  "  I  suppose  he  says 
true  as  far  as  the  nailing  up  of  the  letter  goes,  at  least. 
Little  Petrus  Bickers  and  Gysbert  Arentse  were  here 
not  long  since  to  say  that  they  saw  Adrian  de  Hooge 
do  it  with  his  own  hands  early  Sunday  morning — with 
his  own  two  hands,  they  swear.  There's  a  dirty  trick 
for  you !  Said  I  not  true,  Jan  Praa,  that  he'd  a  grudge 
against  our  child  ?  Oh !  you  can  never  deceive  me." 

Though  she  continued  to  speak  in  Dutch,  as  if  to 
mark  her  disapprobation  of  the  intruders,  both  Peggy 
and  Bellenden  had  gained  sufficient  knowledge  of  the 
language  during  their  intimacy  with  the  family  to  un- 
derstand her  meaning. 

"  Then  Mr.  Adrian  de  Hooge  will  answer  for  his  con- 
duct to  me,"  Bellenden  cried  savagely.  "  Tell  me 
where  he  may  be  found " 

"  To-morrow  vill  I  show  you,  sir,  ant  t'at  glatly,  put 
for  to-night  t'ere  is  Annetje  to  seek." 

"  Jan  is  right,  Jack ;  everything  else  must  wait. 
Where  is  Joris?  " 

Heilke  set  down  the  lighted  candles  upon  the  table 
and  turning,  looked  at  the  girl  with  the  old  animosity 
kindling  in  her  glance,  then  she  faced  Jan  and  addressed 
him  as  if  the  others  did  not  exist. 

"  All  through  the  early  day,  as  you  know,  was  Joris 
absent,  never  once  did  I  see  him.  He  came  back  some 
time  ago  and  in  at  the  door  there,  running  like  a  young 
dog.  I've  always  said  he  put  on  his  lameness  for  the 
sake  of  an  extra  bone — oh !  you  can't  trick  me.  Frisky 
and  fawning  was  he  and  jumping  up  against  me  so 

356 


The  New  Day 


that  I  needs  must  drive  him  off.  Then  out  he  went 
like  mad  into  the  garden." 

"  He  misses  the  child,"  Jan  said  brokenly. 

"  Perhaps — "  Bellenden  began,  the  next  moment  he 
stopped  abruptly  for  the  dog,  coming  again  to  the 
door  and  hearing  voices,  hurled  himself  frantically 
into  the  room  and  fell  upon  Jan  uttering  short,  sharp 
barks. 

"  Do  you  miss  her,  boy?  "  the  old  man  asked,  putting 
out  his  hand  to  fondle  the  restless  head.  As  he  did  so, 
the  bit  of  rope  dangling  from  the  dog's  collar  caught 
his  eye.  "  Joris  bound  ?  "  he  cried  in  a  voice  of  thun- 
der. "  Whose  doing  was  that  ?  " 

"  I  tell  you  until  now  I  have  not  seen  him." 

"  And  I  tell  you  he's  been  bound — tied — our  Joris 
tied." 

Peggy  knelt  down  on  the  floor  and  called  the  dog 
to  her.  He  eyed  her  mistrustfully  for  a  little  space  be- 
fore he  went  slowly  up  and  licked  her  hands. 

"  He  freed  himself,"  she  cried,  excitement  quivering 
in  her  voice.  "  Look  at  the  rope's  end,  and  his  collar 
is  torn  almost  in  two — and  see  his  poor  neck  where  he 
strained  to  escape.  Good  fellow — good  fellow !  Where 
is  Annetje  ?  " 

The  animal  gave  a  low  howl,  hobbled  to  the  door 
and  gazed  out  into  the  night,  then  came  whimpering 
back  and  dragged  at  her  skirts. 

"  Get  some  lanterns,"  Bellenden  said  gravely.  "  We 
will  seek  her  with  Joris  for  guide  and  find  her  too. 
Come,  cheer  up,  man,  cheer  up." 

He  waited,  while  the  necessary  preparations  were 
being  made,  looking  down  without  a  word  at  the  girl 

357 


God's  Puppets 


as  she  caressed  the  dog ;  when  everything  was  in  readi- 
ness he  took  the  proffered  lantern  and  went  swiftly  up 
to  the  kneeling  figure. 

"  You  will  wait  here  for  our  return  ?  " 

Her  lips  framed  yes,  but  she  neither  spoke,  nor 
glanced  at  him ;  she  bent  and  kissed  the  dog's  head. 

"  Bring  her  back,  Joris,"  she  whispered  softly. 

"  Take  us  to  Annetje,  sir,"  Bellenden  commanded. 
"Find  Annetje!" 

The  dog  gave  a  quick  bark,  turned  sharply  and 
limped  to  the  door,  looking  anxiously  over  his  shoul- 
der to  sec  if  he  was  being  followed.  When  he  per- 
ceived the  two  men  close  on  his  heels  he  leapt  out 
into  the  night  and  they  hastened  after  to  keep  up  with 
him  . 

Left  to  themselves  the  women  did  not  alter  their  po- 
sitions for  some  minutes,  except  that  each  bent  forward 
slightly  to  listen  to  the  receding  steps.  Heilke  was  the 
first  to  turn  her  eyes  from  the  open  door  and  the  ob- 
scurity beyond  to  her  surroundings.  She  let  them  rest 
coldly  upon  her  companion  still  kneeling  in  the  little 
circle  of  light,  her  cloak  lying  disregarded  upon  the 
floor,  her  face  full  of  indefinable  sadness.  Peggy,  sen- 
sible of  the  unfriendliness  in  the  glance,  got  to  her  feet 
quickly  and  went  quite  close  to  the  old  woman,  touched 
by  her  appearance  of  suffering  into  forgetfulness  of  any 
resentment  which  she  might  cherish  against  her. 

"  They  will  bring  Annetje  back  safe,"  she  cried  with 
the  confidence  of  youth,  "  they  must  bring  her  back." 

Heilke  retreated  a  step  or  two,  deriving  no  apparent 
comfort  from  the  other's  hopefulness.  A  muscle 
throbbed  almost  painfully  in  her  cheek  at  the  mention 

358 


The  New  Day 


of  Annetje's  name,  but  otherwise  her  features  remained 
grim  and  forbidding. 

"  T'at  vill  ant  must  are  vorts  for  Kott  to  speak,  juf- 
frouw,  not  for  us.  Put  to  Domine  Ryerssen  you  vill 
like  to  go.  I  pray  you  not'ings  say  of  t'e  chilt  to  him, 
he  ton't  know — yet." 

"  No,  I  will  not  go  to  the  domine.  Let  me  stay  here 
with  you — I  will  be  quiet,  if  that  pleases  you  best.  And 
yet  sometimes  just  to  know,  if  only  for  a  moment,  that 
another  grieves  with  us  in  our  sorrow — oh !  not  so  deep- 
ly as  we  grieve,  but  comprehending  us  a  little — is  often 
like  a  soothing  hand  laid  upon  an  ache.  You  and  I  are 
very  far  apart,  but  I  should  like  to  come  near  enough 
to  say  '  I  am  sorry  for  you.'  " 

Heilke  stiffened  in  every  line  of  her  body,  then,  as 
the  meaning  of  the  girl's  words  penetrated  through  the 
hard  crust  which  she  usually  presented  to  the  world,  a 
deep  quiver  ran  through  her  frame.  It  was  like  the 
writhing  of  some  mighty  tree  before  the  fury  of  the 
storm,  its  helplessness  so  much  more  pitiful  than  the 
weakness  of  lesser  growths.  She  tried  to  conceal  her 
emotion,  but  her  voice  shook  despite  her  efforts,  yet 
she  spoke  with  a  certain  simple  dignity. 

"  Kreatly  it  hurts  v'en  t'e  vorldt  points  at  one  you  lof 
ant  folks,  no  petter  as  t'ey  shouldt  pe,  spurn  t'at  one 
unterfoot ;  no  pitterness  is  t'ere  like  unto  it !  Sit,  juf- 
frouw,  since  you  vill  not  to  t'e  domine  go."  She  was 
silent  a  moment  then  she  burst  forth  again,  "  In  efery- 
poty's  mouth  t'e  story  is,  ant  eferyv'ere  t'ey  t'ink  shame 
of  her — my  chilt." 

"  Have  patience !  When  my  cousin  makes  known 
what  part  Mynheer  de  Hooge  has  played  in  this  vil- 

359 


God's  Puppets 


lainy  the  people  will  make  amends.     Oh !  he'll  punish 
the  coward  well,  I  promise  you." 

"  Ay,  let  him,"  Heilke  cried  with  great  fury,  "  let 
him."  Then  her  voice  dropped  to  a  wail.  "  Put  t'at  vill 
not  Annetje  help,  v'en  t'e  tofe's  ving  is  proke  nefer  any 
more  toes  it  fly  again ;  it  must  keep  close  to  kroundt. 
Ant  I  t'ink  v'en  she  marry  t'at  man  she  vill  pe  happy 
as  nefer  pefore — fool — fool  t'at  I  vas !  Put,  juffrouw, 
till  joost  now  is  he  tifferent ;  prout  alvays  ant  lofing  to 
rule — or  he't  not  pe  son  to  Mevrouw  de  Hooge — put 
not  pat.  Veil,  t'en,  who  can  say  from  t'e  outsite  if  rot- 
ten t'e  apple  is?  Nopoty.  Koot  ant  pat  must  t'ey  pe 
gatheredt  in.  To  Adrian  de  Hooge  maype  t'at  plackness 
of  heart  nefer  comes  v'en  all  t'ings  go  as  he  vish — some 
men  are  like  t'at,  please  t'em,  ant  antgels  are  t'ey  all 
t'eir  tays,  cross  t'em — ant  tefils  t'ey  pecome.  So  strange 
is  life!  He  hat  kreat  lof  for  Annetje,  put  v'en  he  is 
come  pack  from  Firginia,  v'en  you  are  first  here,  I  see 
a  change  in  his  looks  ant  nefer  he  speaks  vis  her — I 
say  it  is  pecause  of  t'e  kossip  about  you  ant  t'e  domine's 
pik-heatetness,  ant  also  is  he  angry  apout  t'e  young 
mens'  coming.  He  t'inks  Annetje  vill  not  lof  him  any 
more,  so  he  vaits  ant  punishes  her  like  you  know — 
ant  maype — "  Heilke's  voice  grew  shrill  as  the  new 
thought  occurred  to  her — "  maype  it  vas  he  t'at  sent 
t'e  message  to  t'e  domine." 

Peggy  uttered  a  sharp  cry. 

"You  can't  think  he  would  do  such  a  thing?  Say 
he  loved  Annetje  and  was  jealous  of  my  cousin,  there 
was  no  need  to  hurt  the  domine.  Jan  told  us  as  we  came 
along —  It  was  too  cruel — too  cruel.  Oh !  that  poor, 
good  old  man  what  he  has  suffered." 

360 


The  New  Day 


Heilke's  rugged  face  became  transfigured  with  gen- 
tleness ;  it  was  like  the  sun  breaking  through  the  clouds 
after  a  day  of  storm. 

"  Ay,  v'at  he  has  sufferedt !  You  say  fery  true.  Veil, 
t'en,  let  us  t'ank  Kott  pecause  t'ere  is  One  t'at  unter- 
stants  petter  as  ve  to ;  like  as  a  fat'er  pities  his  chiltren 
so  vill  He  pity  him  ant  haf  mercy  upon  him." 

The  words,  direct,  simple,  free  from  doubt,  were  the 
crystallization  of  a  humble  faith.  Prone  to  condemn 
all  shortcomings  as  Heilke  usually  was,  and  an  adept 
at  pointing  out  the  duty  of  others,  she  had  no  censure 
to  make  upon  the  domine's  conduct.  She  was  ready  to 
leave  him  to  the  tenderness  of  an  all-seeing  God,  whose 
ways  are  not  as  the  ways  of  men. 

The  two  women  in  the  silence  that  followed  were 
brought  very  close  in  their  thoughts  of  Cornelis  Ry- 
erssen,  the  one — throbbing  with  the  memories  of  many 
years,  the  other — with  her  little  record  of  a  few  weeks, 
yet  both  meeting  on  the  common  ground  of  sympathy 
for  him  in  the  trials  he  had  undergone.  It  occurred  to 
Peggy,  after  a  little,  that  her  companion  was  ignorant 
of  the  fuller  details  of  the  domine's  story  which  she  and 
Jan  had  learned  that  evening  and  she  broke  the  quiet 
to  tell  of  Bellenden's  acquaintance  with  Katrina  de 
Vos. 

She  spoke  simply  as  to  a  child,  with  constant  reiter- 
ations, for  Heilke,  bewildered  by  this  new  communica- 
tion, did  not  seem  able  to  grasp  the  meaning  of  even 
the  most  ordinary  words.  Not  for  a  moment,  however, 
did  Peggy  lose  patience,  though  she  was  generally  in- 
tolerant of  interruptions;  very  gently,  very  tenderly, 
did  she  give  the  account  of  that  other  woman's  life,  her 

361 


God's  Puppets 


own  renunciation  of  happiness  making  it  easier  for  her 
to  comprehend  the  sufferings  of  others. 

Heilke  listened  in  open-mouthed  astonishment,  for- 
getful of  the  happenings  of  the  present  in  that  record 
of  the  past;  but  every  little  while  she  let  fall  faint  ejac- 
ulations and  deep  sobs,  and  when  the  end  had  been 
reached  for  the  third  time  she  sat  staring  dumbly  be- 
fore her.  Her  love  for  her  young  mistress,  which  had 
amounted  almost  to  worship,  had  been  kept  alive 
through  the  years  by  constant  reference  and  remem- 
brance and  the  domine's  revelation,  coming  like  a  bolt 
out  of  the  blue,  had  not  dispelled  it.  It  had  shaken  her 
heart  to  the  core,  but  the  old,  adoring  faith  was  still 
there,  broken  a  little,  yet  not  destroyed.  Oftentimes  it 
is  difficult  to  give  up  the  old  faiths;  even  though  they 
be  proved  undeserving  we  cling  to  them — not  so  much 
for  their  sakes,  perhaps,  as  for  the  sake  of  what  they 
once  have  been  to  us.  Better,  far  better,  than  the 
empty  niche  is  the  old  idol,  though  its  feet  be  of  clay. 
We  love  it  despite  its  unworthiness — even  for  its  un- 
worthiness,  God  knows ! 

The  room  was  very  still.  The  tall  eight-day  clock 
in  the  corner  ticked  loudly,  as  if  glad  to  hear  the  sound 
of  its  own  voice  in  that  deep  quiet,  and  the  night  wore 
on.  Occasionally  Heilke,  stirring  under  the  stress  of 
the  different  emotions  in  her  breast,  uttered  a  few  words 
in  her  own  tongue,  disjointed  reminiscences  about  the 
dear,  dead  mistress,  chidings  to  Annetje,  or  quick  com- 
mands, as  if  the  girl  were  present  and  once,  fully 
aroused  to  the  meaning  of  the  slow-dragging  hours  of 
suspense,  the  old  servant  cried  out  wildly  about  the 
screeching  woman  of  Maiden  Lane  and  trembled  vio- 

362 


The  New  Day 


lently  at  the  possibility  of  Annetje's  encountering  the 
ghost.  Peggy  put  her  hand  soothingly  upon  Heilke's 
and  coaxed  her  back  into  quietness,  not  mocking  at  her 
superstitions  as  she  would  have  done  the  day  before, 
but  making  them,  even  to  the  distraught  fancy,  seem 
like  shadows  that  vanished  speedily.  The  old  woman 
did  not  speak,  but  she  patted  the  girl's  arm  with  her 
coarse,  work-worn  fingers ;  after  a  moment  she  leaned 
forward  and  touched  a  fold  of  the  glistening  brocade 
half  in  admiration,  half  in  awe. 

"  Pret-ty,  pret-ty,"  she  said  with  the  heartbreaking 
pathos  of  the  old  become  like  a  little  child,  then  she 
settled  back  in  her  chair,  weariness  showing  in  every 
line  of  her  face  and  figure.  For  a  time  she  fought 
against  it,  trying  to  preserve  her  old  dauntless  demean- 
or, but  the  body  was  too  weak  to  obey  the  commands 
of  the  iron  will  and  at  last  even  the  will  faltered. 

Presently,  attracted  by  the  huge  bobbing  shadow 
upon  the  wall,  Peggy  turned  to  find  her  companion  al- 
most asleep.  There  was  something  repulsive  in  the  re- 
laxed countenance  and  the  head  falling  inertly  from 
side  to  side ;  something  unlovely  in  the  open  mouth  and 
blinking  eyes.  Yet  the  girl,  with  that  new  insight 
which  the  last  few  hours  had  bestowed  upon  her  as  an 
inalienable  gift,  perceived  nothing  of  this,  tuned  as  she 
was  to  pity  and  helpfulness.  To  be  weak  and  to  be  in 
trouble  were  henceforth  sure  ways  of  finding  Peggy 
Crewe's  heart.  She  stooped  quickly  and  rolled  her 
cloak  into  a  makeshift  pillow  which  she  slipped  behind 
the  old  servant's  head.  Heilke  stirred  and  opened  her 
eyes,  as  if  to  rebuke  the  touch  that  brought  her  back 
to  a  knowledge  of  her  troubles,  then — soothed  almost 

363 


God's  Puppets 


instantly  by  the  increased  comfort  of  her  attitude  and 
the  lulling  note  in  the  quiet  voice — she  laid  her  tear- 
stained  face  against  the  improvised  cushion  and,  in  the 
dreamless  sleep  of  exhaustion,  forgot  for  a  little  while 
the  existence  of  grief  and  shame. 

There  was  no  sleep  for  Peggy,  and  no  wish  for  it 
on  her  part.  Despite  the  loneliness  and  strangeness  of 
her  position,  despite  her  fatigue,  she  felt  that  it  was 
good  for  her  to  be  in  the  simple  kitchen  during  those 
dark  hours  before  the  dawn.  It  was  a  time  of  spiritual 
rebirth.  Amid  just  such  surroundings  she  became  a 
new  creature.  The  old  domineering,  arrogant  self 
slipped  away  and  in  its  stead  there  arose  another  Mar- 
garet Crewe — one  more  compassionate,  more  womanly, 
stronger  in  the  strength  that  makes  for  character  in 
remembering  the  needs  of  others.  She  looked  out  to 
meet  the  light  of  the  new  day  with  brave,  sweet  eyes. 
The  long  vigil  was  over — it  was  morning  again. 

After  a  little  she  left  her  chair  and  went  to  the  door, 
glancing  around  at  the  freshness  and  beauty  of  earth 
and  sky  and,  as  she  waited  there,  Bellenden  came  up 
through  the  dew-impearled  garden.  At  sight  of  him 
she  uttered  a  glad  cry  which  died  instantly,  as  the  mean- 
ing in  his  haggard  face  forced  itself  upon  her  with  un- 
compromising directness.  The  sound  of  her  ejacula- 
tion and  the  increasing  light  aroused  Heilke,  and  when 
he  reached  the  house  both  women  were  waiting  for  him 
on  the  porch,  the  younger  with  her  arm  thrown  pro- 
tectingly  around  the  other's  shoulders.  So  they  re- 
mained for  some  minutes  after  he  had  delivered  his 
painful  news,  clinging  mutely  together;  Peggy  out- 
wardly the  more  shaken  of  the  two.  Then  Heilke 

364 


The  New  Day 


moved  away.  There  was  no  outlet  for  her  grief.  She 
came  to  a  sudden  standstill  and  looked  longingly  at  her 
companions  with  burning  eyes  that  held  no  tears,  her 
white  lips  moving — yet  uttering  no  words. 

"  The  domine — "  she  managed  to  articulate  at  last. 

"  You  mean  he  must  be  told  before — before  Jan 
comes  ?  "  Peggy  said  softly.  "  You  would  like  us  to 
tell  him?" 

The  old  woman  nodded  assent  and  stepped  back  into 
the  house  almost  gladly,  the  others  following  her,  Bel- 
lenden  bringing  up  the  rear.  In  this  order  they  went 
along  the  hall  to  the  study  door  which,  as  usual,  was 
closed.  But  the  domine  was  always  an  early  riser  and 
often  at  his  books  before  the  others  of  his  house- 
hold were  astir  and,  knowing  this,  Heilke  sought 
him  here.  She  motioned  to  Bellenden  to  knock,  then 
pushed  his  hand  jealously  aside  and  struck  the  pan- 
elled surface  in  his  stead — struck  it  again  when,  after 
an  interval  of  waiting,  there  came  no  summons  from 
within. 

"  It  is  so  early,"  Peggy  interposed,  "  perhaps  he  is 
still  above-stairs." 

Heilke  did  not  heed  her,  but  turning  the  knob  she  set 
the  door  wide.  "  He  is  here  as  I  knew,"  she  took  a  step 
forward  into  the  room,  "  Domine ! "  Her  voice  had 
lost  its  confident  triumph  and  was  wonderfully  gentle, 
"  Domine ! " 

He  did  not  answer.  He  was  leaning  back  in  his  chair 
with  closed  eyes,  apparently  sleeping  after  the  fatigue 
of  the  night,  for  the  burned  out  candles  showed  that  he 
had  been  sitting  there  through  the  long  watches  busy 
with  books  and  papers.  His  folio  was  open  before  him 

365 


God's  Puppets 


and  several  closely  written  sheets  had  fallen  from  it  to 
the  floor. 

"  Domine,"  the  voice  sharpened,  but  more  with  fear 
than  with  impatience. 

Bellenden  stepped  swiftly  past  the  trembling  woman 
and  went  up  to  the  quiet  figure.  After  a  long  minute 
he  moved  back  with  lowered  head. 

"  The  domine  does  not  hear  you — will  not  hear  you 
again — he  is  dead." 

A  half  smothered  cry  came  from  the  girl  at  the  door, 
but  Heilke,  uttering  no  word,  crept  close  to  her  master 
and  stood  gazing  down  tenderly  at  the  still  face  with 
its  faint,  inscrutable  smile  as  if  the  eyes  that  had  looked 
upon  the  great  mystery  had  been  satisfied,  knowing  no 
fear.  All  sorrow,  all  worry,  seemed  to  have  been 
smoothed  away  as  by  some  angel's  touch  and,  in  the 
light  of  the  new  day,  only  a  beautiful  peace  remained. 

"  No — no — no — "  the  old  woman  cried  as  she  fell  on 
her  knees  beside  the  chair,  "  just  gone  home — beyond 
the  fret  and  heartbreak  of  this  life — gone  home  to 
God." 


366 


XXXI 

FULFILMENT 

It  was  an  odd  trio  that  waited  on  the  steps  of  the  De 
Hooge  mansion  and,  as  the  door  swang  back,  the  serv- 
ing-man stood,  round-eyed,  gaping  at  the  new-comers. 
Two  of  their  number  were  not  unknown  to  him.  In- 
deed, there  was  hardly  a  person  in  town,  no  matter  of 
what  nationality,  who  was  not  more  or  less  familiar 
with  little  Petrus  Bickers  and  his  constant  companion 
Gysbert  Arentse — yoke-fellows  as  they  were  in  all  the 
mischief  a-foot.  But  after  a  wrathful  stare  in  their 
direction,  for  their  temerity  had  hitherto  consisted  in 
loudly  banging  the  heavy  knocker  and  not  in  waiting 
to  be  detected  in  the  act,  the  man  let  his  attention  wan- 
der to  the  other  member  of  the  group.  He  caught  his 
breath  with  a  quick  gasp  of  astonishment.  The  tall 
English  officer  was  an  utter  stranger  to  him,  prepos- 
sessing at  all  times  in  appearance,  on  this  particular 
occasion  his  pale  stern  face,  full  of  an  indomitable  pur- 
pose, and  his  proud  bearing  materially  increased  his  air 
of  dignity. 

On  the  instant,  even  to  the  servant's  slow  wits,  it  was 
evident  that,  in  some  way,  the  visitor  was  connected 
with  the  trouble  and  distress  which  prevailed  in  the 
parish  of  the  Garden  Street  church,  and  had  become 
widespread  among  the  Dutch-speaking  inhabitants  of 
the  town.  The  domine's  story  had  carried  consterna- 

367 


God's  Puppets 


tion  everywhere,  and  censure  and  opprobrium  had  been 
quick  to  leap  forth  in  many  quarters,  though  among  the 
humbler  folk  there  was  uttered  no  least  word  of  blame ; 
perhaps  the  remembrance  of  the  old  man's  many  kind- 
nesses to  them  made  it  an  impossibility  to  convict  him 
of  any  deep  wrong.  For  the  moment  he  was  nearer  to 
them  a  thousandfold  because  of  his  fault;  he  was  a 
man  like  themselves,  suffering  and  sinning  where  they 
would  have  suffered  and  sinned.  They  had  no  con- 
demnation to  offer. 

Annetje's  disgrace,  however,  had  raised  up  cham- 
pions in  her  defence  on  every  side.  Despite  her  light 
behavior  which  seemed  an  indisputable  fact  in  the 
minds  of  all,  the  bitterness  of  her  punishment  called 
aloud  for  vengeance  with  an  intensity  not  to  be  with- 
stood. 

The  information  which  the  two  boy  witnesses  were 
not  slow  to  produce  had  a  benumbing  effect  temporar- 
ily upon  their  hearers,  though  it  served  to  divert  the 
attention  from  Bellenden  into  other  channels.  After 
the  first  surprised  and  indignant  refutation  of  the  chil- 
dren's testimony,  their  words  gained  credence  with 
lightning-like  rapidity.  And  even  before  Heilke  was 
aware  of  the  part  Adrian  de  Hooge  had  played  in  re- 
gard to  the  letter,  men  were  turning  from  him  in  aver- 
sion in  the  streets  though,  wrapped  as  he  was  in  his 
own  self-satisfaction,  he  did  not  perceive  their  scorn. 
He  had  his  usual  following;  there  was  small  danger 
that  the  number  of  sycophants  would  diminish  while 
his  riches  remained. 

The  servant's  eyes  gleamed  as  he  took  in  the  situa- 
tion; he  knew  little  love  for  his  master  that  day. 
Though  the  morning  lacked  an  hour  of  noon  the  news 

368 


Fulfilment 

of  Domine  Ryerssen's  death  had  already  reached  the 
household  in  Gold  Street  and  several  of  its  members 
had  also  witnessed  the  sad  passing  of  Annetje — as  Jan, 
with  the  aid  of  some  men,  conveyed  her  body  home, 
Joris  trailing  dejectedly  along  in  the  wake  of  the  little 
procession.  Mute  as  the  girl  was  forevermore  her 
woes  cried  trumpet-tongued  for  vengeance,  and  some 
echo  of  those  cries  must  have  sounded  in  the  man's 
hearing  and  made  him  fling  the  door  wide  to  admit  the 
stranger  and  his  companions. 

"Where  is  he?"  Bellenden  demanded.  "Take  me 
to  him  at  once,  I  will  not  be  denied." 

The  servant  made  a  gesture  of  comprehension  and 
turning  led  the  way  along  the  spacious  corridor,  with 
its  rich  plenishings,  to  the  door  at  the  rear  which  opened 
on  the  garden.  He  set  it  ajar  with  a  firm  hand  and 
stood  back  while  the  guests  passed  through,  then  he 
followed  them  running  to  precede  the  officer. 

"  It  is  not  necessary  to  announce  me,"  Bellenden  said 
savagely,  impeding  his  progress.  "  I  see  your  mas- 
ter." 

Adrian  de  Hooge  was  standing  a  short  distance  be- 
yond them,  his  back  turned  to  the  house,  his  hands 
thrust  in  his  pockets  and  his  body  bent  a  trifle  above 
some  object  on  the  ground  which  seemed  to  hold  his 
undivided  attention.  He  had  returned  a  short  time  be- 
fore from  his  counting-house,  earlier  than  was  his  cus- 
tom, but  the  news  of  the  double  affliction  in  the 
Ryerssen  family  had  made  all  idea  of  business  im- 
possible. The  grief,  as  grief,  did  not  touch  him,  he 
knew  no  least  throb  of  sorrow,  nor  did  remorse  prick 
through  his  callous  bearing.  The  pitiful  tragedy  at 

369 


God's  Puppets 


the  Collect  left  him  dry-eyed,  and  even  smiling  a  little. 
If  he  felt  any  regret  at  all  it  was  because  Annetje's  suf- 
ferings had  so  speedily  passed  away.  He  would  have 
had  them  prolonged  indefinitely  through  the  years ;  the 
thought  that  she  might  terminate  them  by  her  own  act 
had  not  occurred  to  him.  Still,  powerless  though  he 
was  to  hurt  her  further,  he  gloated  over  the  fact  that 
he  had  gained  his  ends.  His  vengeance  was  sweet  as 
honey  in  his  mouth.  He  swaggered  home  with  a  gay 
exterior  and,  his  mother  being  absent  at  a  neighbor's, 
he  betook  himself  directly  to  the  garden  there  to  while 
away  the  time  until  the  dinner  hour. 

The  brilliant  masses  of  bloom  on  every  side  seemed 
to  fling  out  their  rich  color  and  perfume  in  welcome, 
though  he  had  but  an  indifferent  regard  for  their  beauty. 
He  broke  a  late  rose  from  its  stem  in  passing,  crushed 
it  momentarily  against  his  face  and  then  dropped  it 
with  a  laugh,  and  gathered  another  flower,  despoiled  it 
of  its  leaves  and  cast  it  in  quick  distaste  after  its  prede- 
cessor. His  mood  was  one  of  wanton  destructiveness. 
As  he  gazed  slowly  about,  malignity  sharpening  his 
features,  his  attention  was  attracted  by  a  bird  that, 
startled  by  his  approach,  had  whirred  up  from  a  near- 
by bush.  It  was  but  newly  fledged  and  he  watched  it 
idly  as  it  fluttered  timorously  upward  and  hovered  a 
moment  around  a  neighboring  branch  before  it  settled 
in  fancied  security  amid  the  leaves.  Then  he  stooped 
and  with  a  cautious  movement  possessed  himself  of  a 
handful  of  stones.  He  rose  to  his  feet  again  and  sent 
one  skimming  through  the  air  at  the  little,  soft  thing 
poised  beyond  him.  It  struck  the  tiny  wing  spread  in 
sudden  alarm  to  gain  a  safer  haven  and  the  bird 

370 


Fulfilment 

dropped  earthward.  De  Hooge  chuckled  aloud  and 
moved  slowly  forward  to  where  it  lay — a  mass  of  palpi- 
tating feathers.  He  prodded  the  small  object  with  his 
foot  and,  as  he  twitched  it  now  this  way,  now  that, 
bent  lower  the  better  to  hear  its  faint  cries  of  pain. 

The  sound  of  the  opening  door  and  of  steps  on  the 
gravel  came  as  an  interruption  to  his  pastime.  He 
turned  from  his  tiny  victim  and  confronted  the  new- 
comers. For  a  moment  he  stood,  with  fallen  jaw,  star- 
ing into  Bellenden's  face,  his  own  going  white  with 
rancor  as  he  recognized  the  Englishman;  then  his 
gaze  strayed  from  him  to  the  two  boys  and  the  half- 
frightened,  half-defiant  servant. 

"  I  left  orders  that  I  did  not  wish  to  be  disturbed," 
he  snarled  in  his  own  language,  "  I  have  no  concerns 
with  this  gentleman,  no  acquaintance  with  him  and  no 
desire  of  an  acquaintance " 

"  Neither  is  the  acquaintance  desired  on  my  part," 
Bellenden  interposed  hotly.  "  Oh !  I  understand  you, 
sir.  But  you  shall  not  be  rid  of  me  until  I  have  placed 
my  mark  upon  you  so  that,  to  the  longest  day  of  your 
life,  John  Bellenden  shall  be  a  name  that  will  live  in 
your  memory." 

De  Hooge  looked  quickly  about.  Between  him  and 
the  house  stood  his  enemy,  the  wide-eyed,  alert  boys  and 
the  servant,  through  whose  familiar  exterior  unfamil- 
iar signs  of  revolt  gleamed  boldly.  The  master's  glance 
darkened,  then  went  on.  Beyond  and  around  him 
stretched  the  garden— of  fair  size,  but  no  maze — the 
paths  were  straight  and  unobstructed,  good  for  flight, 
yet  equally  good  for  pursuit.  He  was  not  much  of  a 
runner  and  though  he  might  lead  in  the  chase,  double  on 

371 


God's  Puppets 

his  tracks  and  so  reach  the  house,  there  was  always  the 
chance  of  being  overtaken  and  routed.  The  gleam  of 
a  scythe  in  the  sun  in  an  adjacent  meadow  caught  his 
eye  and,  nearer  at  hand,  the  sound  of  a  spade  throwing 
up  earth  was  a  welcome  note  to  his  hearing.  He  put 
his  fingers  to  his  mouth  and  whistled  shrilly. 

"  Balthazar,"  he  shouted,  "  Oloff— hi  boys !  Hans 
— Michel — hither  directly — make  haste." 

He  moved  back  a  few  steps  to  the  tree,  from  which 
the  little  bird  had  fallen  but  a  short  time  before,  keeping 
his  gaze  fixed  on  Bellenden's  face,  an  easy  smile  grow- 
ing about  his  lips.  There  was  an  interval  of  silence, 
broken  only  by  the  noise  of  the  approaching  men  as 
they  came  running  up  from  different  directions  in  an- 
swer to  their  master's  summons.  A  fifth,  hearing  the 
excitement,  had  joined  the  others,  racing  breathlessly 
in  their  wake  with  an  impetus  that  sent  him  sprawling 
headlong  against  the  house-servant  and  almost  over- 
turned him.  De  Hooge  gave  a  loud  laugh  as  the  two 
men  regained  their  footing  and  glowered  angrily  at 
each  other ;  then  he  flicked  a  twig  from  his  coat-sleeve, 
glanced  superciliously  at  Bellenden  and  laughed  again 
— waiting  a  little. 

The  men  stood  gazing  at  him,  panting  and  crimsoned 
from  their  run,  waiting,  in  their  turn,  for  his  further 
instructions.  He  studied  their  mute,  questioning  faces 
briefly. 

"  Some  of  you  take  my  gentleman  in  scarlet  there 
and  throw  him  into  the  street,"  he  ordered.  "  Trundle 
him  out  in  your  barrow,  Paul,  dump  him  in  a  ditch — 
anywhere — anywhere — so  that  you  free  the  garden  of 
his  loathsome  presence.  Do  you  hear  me  ?  "  he  cried 

372 


Fulfilment 

shrilly  as  no  one  moved.  "  Out  with  the  vermin  at 
once." 

Bellenden  drew  his  hand  from  his  breast,  and  some- 
thing showed  dark  in  the  clear  light  of  noon. 

"  One  moment/'  he  called  in  a  voice  of  thunder,  "  the 
man  who  obeys  that  cur  and  so  much  as  touches  me, 
or  interferes  with  my  purpose,  shall  have  a  taste  of  this 
for  his  pains.  I  don't  speak  your  language,  but  this 
little  trusty  friend  shall  be  my  interpreter." 

He  lifted  his  hand  as  he  spoke  and  fired  into  the 
air — there  was  a  loud  report  and  a  trail  of  smoke  rose 
like  a  soft  little  cloud  into  the  blue,  floating  gently 
up  and  up.  He  lowered  his  weapon  with  a  smile. 

"  There's  more  of  that  waiting  here,  but  I  swear  to 
you  the  next  shots  shall  find  their  home  in  your 
breasts  if  you  thwart  me.  Now,  will  you  heed  your 
master  ?  " 

A  hasty  scuffling  of  feet  was  his  only  answer  as  the 
wild-eyed,  trembling  men  huddled  closely  together. 
The  stranger  did  not  speak  their  tongue,  but  they  un- 
derstood his ;  had  he  been  of  their  own  kin  his  meaning, 
enforced  as  it  was  by  such  an  object-lesson,  could  not 
have  been  plainer. 

"You  cowards!"  shrieked  De  Hooge.  "You  cursed, 
beggarly  cowards — I'll  have  you  flogged  to  jelly.  How 
dare  you  disregard  my  orders  ?  Put  that  villain  out." 

Bellenden  held  his  pistol  steady. 

"  Paul — my  good,  brave  giant  Paul — show  us  your 
mettle  and  shame  these  dastardly  knaves.  Only  drop 
that  scarlet  play-soldier  into  your  cart  and  wheel  him 
away  and  I'll  double  your  earnings " 

"And  I'll  double  your  sufferings,  good  master 
373 


God's  Puppets 


Paul,"  Bellenden  interrupted,  "  if  you  try  to  carry  out 
the  bidding  of  that  popinjay.  Come,  choose  between 
us." 

"  At  him— at  him—"  yelled  De  Hooge. 

The  great  burly  gardener  stood  his  ground  for  a  mo- 
ment debating  the  question  then,  before  the  blazing  eyes 
of  his  master,  he  retreated  slowly  step  by  step.  Bellen- 
den drew  a  trifle  nearer. 

"  Bravo,  my  man,"  he  cried  with  a  quick  smile. 
"  This  is  not  your  quarrel  and  I  have  no  wish  to  shed 
innocent  blood.  My  business  to-day  is  to  punish  that 
poltroon,  because  he  is  a  villain  and  a  murderer — a  mur- 
derer as  black  as  the  blackest  that  ever  overcame  his 
victim  with  steel,  or  poison,"  he  paused  a  moment. 
"  Do  you  understand  me  ?  "  he  cried  sharply.  "  Try — 
see  I  will  make  it  plain —  You  knew  the  domine's  lit- 
tle daughter?  Well,  she  is  dead — dead  by  her  own 
hand — but  as  true  as  there's  a  God  in  heaven  she  was 
driven  to  seek  her  death  by  that  wretch  there.  Some 
of  you  have  heard,  perhaps,  how  she  was  shamed  on 
Sunday,  how  the  little  letter  she  writ  was  nailed  upon 
the  church  door  for  all  the  world  to  jeer  at.  He  put 
it  there — your  master,  who  calls  you  cowards — who, 
out  of  his  generosity,  gives  you  the  name  he  bears  him- 
self. These  boys  saw  him  nail  it  up,  if  you  want  other 
testimony  than  his  face." 

"  It's  a  lie,"  sputtered  De  Hooge  with  white  lips,  "  a 
damned  lie.  He  did  it  himself  because  he  was  tired 
of  the  drab." 

Bellenden's  infuriated  cry  was  drowned  in  the  vehe- 
ment clamor  the  boys  let  loose  and  the  coarse  invect- 
ives showered  by  De  Hooge  upon  his  accusers.  The 

374 


Fulfilment 

men  remained  grimly  apart  with  grave,  impenetrable 
faces,  but  letting  no  word  escape  them. 

"  Silence !  "  Bellenden  commanded,  making  himself 
heard  above  the  din.  "  You've  had  your  say,  lads,  and 
time  presses — it's  my  turn  now."  He  moved  close  to 
the  group  of  servants.  "  I  ask  you  to  give  me  fair  play 
and  I  offer  you  no  bribes.  I  appeal  to  you  as  men.  I 
ask  you  to  stand  aside  while  I  punish  that  false,  foul- 
mouthed  cur.  Do  you  understand  me  ?  " 

"  Ve  to— ve  to,"  Paul  cried. 

There  was  a  low  growl  among  the  others,  then  one 
of  their  number  said  slowly : 

"  So  v'ite  like  t'e  Holy  Tofe  vas  she — t'at  little 
meysje — Kott  rest  her  soul.  To  as  you  vill,  sir,  ant 
Kott  ait  you !  " 

Bellenden  gave  his  pistol  into  the  keeping  of  the  boys 
and  unfastened  the  sword  from  his  side. 

"  Take  this  also,"  he  said  clearly,  "  I'd  not  mar  its 
brightness  with  one  drop  of  that  craven's  blood."  Then 
he  sprang  toward  his  enemy. 

De  Hooge  swept  the  silent  house  with  his  eyes.  It 
offered  him  no  refuge  and  flight,  with  that  agile  figure 
in  pursuit,  was  beside  the  question.  He  pressed  back 
against  the  tree,  sick  with  apprehension  and  terror,  and 
suddenly  the  remembrance  of  his  adversary's  wound  in 
the  recent  duel  smote  through  his  mind  like  a  light- 
ning's flash.  His  vision  cleared,  his  strength  returned, 
swelling  back  into  his  veins,  a  tide  of  energy  which 
must  sweep  all  weaklings  aside  in  the  flood  of  its  fury. 
With  a  howl  of  rage,  like  that  of  some  maddened  beast, 
he  hurled  himself  upon  Bellenden  with  such  tremendous 
force  that,  for  a  moment,  he  almost  overpowered  the 

375 


God's  Puppets 


slighter  figure  which  trembled  beneath  the  shock  like 
some  tree  caught  in  the  grip  of  a  mighty  tempest.  To 
the  onlookers  it  seemed  as  if  the  outcome  of  the  en- 
counter was  not  to  be  long  delayed. 

De  Hooge,  perceiving  his  advantage,  uttered  a  loud 
cry  of  triumph,  but  even  as  it  rang  out  upon  the  air 
Bellenden  rallied  from  the  collision  and  his  arms  closed 
like  a  vise  about  his  antagonist.  On  the  instant  the 
two  seemed  molten  into  one  hideous,  shapeless  mould 
as,  locked  in  that  implacable  embrace,  they  writhed  and 
swayed  backward  and  forward  beneath  the  trees,  trip- 
ping and  stumbling  in  their  endeavors  to  throw  each 
other  to  the  ground.  They  were  not  men — but  mon- 
sters strung  with  hatred  and  lust  of  revenge  beyond 
and  below  the  capacity  of  beasts — their  eyes  starting 
from  their  heads,  their  faces  distorted  with  passion  out 
of  all  human  semblance. 

Despite  Bellenden's  recent  sufferings  he  was  more 
than  a  match  for  his  enemy.  He  was  a  skilled  wrestler, 
whereas  De  Hooge  had  had  no  training  to  stand  him  in 
good  stead  in  this  his  extremity,  and  his  muscles  were 
flabby  and  inert  in  comparison  with  the  firm,  clean 
brawn  opposed  to  them ;  neither  could  his  danger,  nor 
his  animosity,  help  him  at  this  time,  though  they  af- 
forded him  a  certain  amount  of  expertness.  Unable  to 
do  anything  with  his  fists  he  used  his  teeth,  biting  like 
an  animal,  yet  gradually  he  was  forced  to  the  earth  and 
pinioned  by  an  iron  strength.  There,  from  his  lowly 
position,  he  shrieked  for  assistance,  mingling  his  cries 
for  aid  with  the  most  fearful  threats  and  imprecations. 

Bellenden  regarded  the  supplicant  contemptuously 
for  a  moment,  the  next,  as  if  incensed  at  the  unceasing 

376 


Fulfilment 

din,  he  closed  his  fingers  about  the  throat  of  his  foe  and 
held  them  there  with  a  deepening  pressure  until  an 
ominous  gurgle  recommended  mercy  on  his  part.  Then 
he  withdrew  his  grip  and  watched  the  natural  color 
creep  back  into  the  livid  countenance. 

"  So,"  he  said,  "  now  that  you've  got  your  breath 
again  you'll  use  it  for  something  else  besides  bellowing 
like  a  calf,  or  I'll  know  the  reason  why.  We  want  a 
word  or  two  from  you,  Mynheer  de  Hooge.  Come, 
confess  that  you  nailed  the  letter  at  the  church  door. 
Speak  in  your  own  tongue,  sir,  I've  no  desire  to  hear 
mine  from  your  lips — speak,  that  these  men  may  hear 
and  understand  you." 

De  Hooge  maintained  an  obstinate  silence,  glaring 
venomously  back  into  the  disdainful  face  above  him. 

"  Speak,"  ordered  Bellenden,  his  fingers  closing  again 
on  the  other's  throat. 

"  I — I  did  it —  Take  off  your  hands — you're — 
you're  choking  me —  Oloff — Michel " 

"  And  you  sent  that  message  to  the  domine  ?  " 

Even  under  the  deadly  pressure  of  those  relentless 
fingers,  even  under  the  blaze  of  shrivelling  scorn  in  the 
watchful  eyes,  a  gleam  of  satisfaction  lighted  up  the 
abject  features  of  the  vanquished  man  and  something 
like  a  laugh  escaped  him. 

"  I  did,"  he  said  slowly,  then  in  a  louder  key — "  I  did 
—I  did " 

Bellenden  took  his  knee  from  his  enemy's  breast  and 
sprang  to  his  feet,  spurning  the  prostrate  form  in  a 
new  access  of  fury.  De  Hooge,  relieved  of  his  weight, 
stirred  a  little  but  before  he  could  rise  Bellenden,  who 
had  seized  a  whip  from  one  of  the  boys,  beat  him  back 

377. 


God's  Puppets 


to  the  ground  again.  Over  and  over  the  lash  descend- 
ed like  some  live,  insatiate  thing  eager  for  the  taste  of 
blood,  curling,  as  if  with  a  hundred  greedy  tongues, 
about  the  victim  while  he  writhed  in  the  grass  present- 
ing now  his  uncovered  head  and  face,  now  his  defence- 
less body  to  the  attack.  A  man  no  longer,  but  just  a 
slavering,  sobbing  creature  calling  upon  his  servants, 
his  mother,  the  vengeance  of  the  smiling,  blue  heavens 
— and  calling  in  vain. 

There  were  no  other  sounds  but  his  cries,  the  singing 
of  the  whip  and  Bellenden's  quickened  breathing.  The 
spectators  remained  perfectly  impassive ;  not  one  of  the 
servants  lifted  a  finger,  or  made  the  slightest  effort  to 
go  to  his  master's  rescue.  They  had  all  suffered 
through  the  years  from  his  arrogance  and  tyranny,  but 
in  that  moment,  deep  though  their  wrongs  had  been, 
they  were  deaf  to  his  pleadings  from  no  personal  griev- 
ance. His  treatment  of  the  domine  and  that  little 
flower-faced  girl  had  rendered  them  utterly  inexorable. 

Wearied  out  at  last  Bellenden's  arm  fell  powerless 
and  the  whip  dropped  from  his  nerveless  grasp.  He 
went  quite  close  to  the  huddled-up,  quivering  figure 
and  looked  down  at  the  pitiable  spectacle. 

"  Now  get  you  out  into  the  highway  and  show  your- 
self for  the  hero  you  are,"  he  sneered,  "  or  skulk  at 
home  behind  your  mother's  petticoats  and  these  men 
shall  go  forth  and  testify  of  this  morning's  work.  Oh, 
the  scars  will  heal,  I  warrant  you !  Unguents  and  salves 
and  Mammy's  nursing  will  make  another  manikin  of 
you,  but  no  unguents — no  salves — will  ever  heal  your 
reputation.  Go  where  you  will,  when  you  will,  the 
story  of  your  villainy  will  precede  you  and  follow  after 

378 


Fulfilment 

you.  And  even  if,  as  the  years  go  by,  your  blackness 
shall  be  forgotten  of  men,  know  this,  Adrian  de  Hooge, 
you  will  not  forget  it  yourself.  It  will  come  between 
you  and  your  pleasures,  between  you  and  your  griefs 
— the  memory  of  that  broken-hearted  old  man — the 
sight  of  that  broken-hearted  little  girl.  I  leave  you  to 
your  own  punishment,  a  bitterer  one  than  I  could  ever 
devise  for  you." 

He  turned  on  his  heel  and  passed  from  the  garden 
to  the  street,  the  boys  following  him  in  rapt  adoration 
as  if  he  were  some  god.  At  the  gate  he  encountered 
Mevrouw  de  Hooge,  returning  from  her  morning's  gos- 
sip, and  stepped  back  to  allow  her  to  enter.  As  she 
availed  herself  of  his  courtesy  she  glanced  askance  at 
his  disordered  dress,  and  instantly  some  premonition 
of  his  identity  flashed  through  her  mind. 

"  You,"  she  cried,  bridling  with  passion. 

"  I  am  but  just  come  from  an  interview  with  your 
son,  madam,"  he  interrupted  with  a  low  bow,  "  and 
Gad !  I've  never  so  enjoyed  myself  in  my  life.  I  have 
the  honor  to  wish  you  a  very  good  day." 

He  moved  off,  taking  his  way  back  to  his  rooms,  his 
exultation  deadening  his  weariness  and  filling  him  with 
a  buoyancy  of  spirit  that  made  him  forget  the  sorrow 
of  the  previous  night.  The  mood  lingered  after  he  had 
refreshed  himself  and  repaired  his  toilet  and,  under  its 
dominion,  he  was  eager  to  find  Peggy  whom  he  had  not 
seen  since  the  early  morning  when  they  had  stood  to- 
gether in  the  domine's  study. 

His  first  thought  was  to  seek  her  in  her  own  home, 
but  almost  immediately  the  realization  came  to  him  that 
his  duty  lay  at  the  parsonage  where  he  might  be  of  some 

379 


God's  Puppets 


service  to  Heilke  and  Jan.  He  went  directly,  there- 
fore, to  the  old  house  going  around  to  the  kitchen  whose 
door,  as  usual,  stood  wide. 

As  he  entered,  he  perceived  that  the  room  was  unoc- 
cupied and,  despite  the  brilliant  sunlight,  cheerless  with 
that  mysterious  sense  of  loss  which  creeps  into  every 
chink  and  cranny  at  the  approach  of  death.  He  stood 
waiting  for  a  few  moments  oppressed  by  his  own  help- 
lessness, then  he  went  along  the  passage-way  very  soft- 
ly, walking  on  tiptoe  in  order  not  to  disturb  that  deep, 
dreamless  sleep  where  the  little  sounds  of  the  world 
never  come. 

The  door  of  the  study  was  closed,  but  the  one  leading 
into  the  parlor  was  ajar.  He  peered  in  cautiously. 
Through  the  window  the  sun  slanted  in  across  the  red 
velvet  chairs  unrebuked,  and  fell  in  a  golden  shaft  upon 
the  couch  in  the  centre  of  the  room  where  Annetje  lay, 
like  some  beautiful  snow  image,  only  her  hair  gleam- 
ing with  its  rare  sheen  above  and  around  the  pallor  of 
her  peaceful  face.  There  were  great  masses  of  blos- 
soms everywhere;  the  garden  had  been  rifled  of  its 
treasures  for  her,  to  whom  its  sweetness  and  bloom  had 
no  further  interest.  As  Bellenden  waited,  Peggy,  who 
had  been  moving  about  intent  upon  some  task,  went 
close  to  Annetje's  side  and  paused  there  with  lowered 
head,  while  Heilke,  a  few  feet  away,  crouched  on  the 
floor  with  her  face  hidden. 

He  passed  through  the  door  noiselessly  and  joined 
his  cousin ;  she  looked  up  at  his  approach  and  then  down 
again,  stooping  to  readjust  some  vines  with  trembling 
fingers.  He  did  not  speak — could  not  speak — but 
Heilke,  made  aware  in  some  subtle  way  of  his  coming, 

380 


Fulfilment 

glanced  up  in  her  turn.  The  next  instant  she  flung  her 
arms  in  jealous  protection  across  the  motionless,  flower- 
decked  figure  and  strained  herself  against  it  as  if  in 
protest.  The  grief  was  hers — hers  alone ! 

Half  comprehending  the  sacredness  of  the  old 
woman's  sufferings,  Bellenden  drew  Peggy  very  gent- 
ly from  the  room.  Together  they  went  along  the  cor- 
ridor back  to  the  deserted  kitchen ;  then  the  girl  put  her 
hand  on  his  where  it  rested  on  her  arm  and  unloosened 
its  clasp.  Her  eyes  were  very  misty. 

"  Not  yet,  Jack,"  she  said  brokenly,  "  we  must  wait 
a  little — I  can't  be  happy  yet." 

But  even  as  she  spoke  she  knew  that  happiness  was 
both  his  and  hers,  that  the  world  was  still  a  beautiful 
place  to  live  in — the  world  where  pain  and  sorrow  form 
the  shade  of  living,  as  pleasure  and  gladness  form  its 
shine. 

Oh !  mystery  of  life,  where  one  must  go  in  sadness 
all  his  days,  and  another  know  only  the  beauty  of  joy. 
Riddle  beyond  our  poor  finite  solving!  And  yet,  it 
is  no  slight  thing  to  look  upon  the  face  of  Truth,  to 
strive  after  what  crowns  humanity — honor,  strength, 
nobility  of  purpose — to  know  that  the  soul  triumphs 
over  death,  and  everywhere  and  always  Love  is  eternal. 


7  i    / 


"£  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A     000  681  276     2 


